A Kind of Magic
by Parareru
Summary: KP Highlander Xover. Immortals. Destined to fight endlessly through the centuries till the few who remain will battle to the last. Ron is drawn into a deadly Game of survival that will affect everyone around him. In the end, there can be only one.
1. Prologue: Of Endings and Beginnings

A Kind of Magic  
by Parareru

**Prologue: Of Endings and Beginnings**

New Edinburgh, Luna Colony ... 2192 AD

Duncan MacLeod slowly sipped at his glass and grimaced at the slightly sour aftertaste of the synthetic liquor. Brewers and distillers alike had made many claims over the past fifty years that the synthetic alcohol was now virtually indistinguishable from real alcohol and much better for you in the long run.

Duncan snorted into his glass. The operative term was 'virtually.' That might have been good enough for someone raised on the stuff, for one who had ample opportunity to partake of the genuine article over the course of several hundred years this modern day... swill paled in comparison. Duncan sighed yet again as he took another pull from his glass.

"Why so long of a sigh, old friend?" a voice cut into Duncan's moment of reflection. Duncan started momentarily, surprised that he'd been so lost in thought that he'd been unaware of the other Immortal's approach. He reached into that 'buzz' that all Immortals shared and felt the presence of an old friend, of several in fact.

A grin broke across Duncan melancholy expression. "Methos," he answered warmly as he rose from the bar and offered his hand to older Immortal.

"It's been too long, Mac," Methos said in greeting as he took Duncan's hand and pulled him into a rough embrace.

"What, fifty years?" Duncan asked innocently.

"More like ninety," Methos corrected with a wry grin. "In fact, I think it was at that New Year's Eve bash in Rio."

"I'm still trying to remember all of the details from that night," Duncan muttered.

"Well, that is what we are here to see to," Methos replied with a grin and moved slightly out of the way to allow his companions to make their greetings to Duncan. "At least that's what myself and these fine ladies have been doing on the shuttle ride up here."

"Kate! Amanda!" Duncan said in surprise as he accepted greeting kisses from the other two Immortals, one blonde and one brunette.

"Happy Birthday," both women chorused. Duncan noted with a bit of surprise that Amanda had cut her hair short and dyed it blonde since the last time he'd seen her.

"You changed your hair," he pointed out with a nebulous wave of his fingers.

Amanda shrugged and ran a hand through her hair. "Actually, I changed it back. Felt like giving blonde another go."

"Blondes do have more fun," Kate observed sagely and then chose to level a piercing look at Duncan. "What? No warm welcome, no astute observations for your wife?"

"Kate, you look great as always," Duncan said easily as he swept his one time wife up in his arms.

"So with who else have you been sharing stories that I can't remember?" Duncan asked Methos with a raised eyebrow as he set Kate back onto her feet.

"Oohh, proper grammar. We have been learning, haven't we, MacLeod?" Methos asked saucily.

"I'm not a complete savage," Duncan retorted loftily.

"Nope, just a part time one," an irreverent voice supplied before Methos could come up with a suitable rejoinder.

Duncan grinned at the sound of the familiar voice. "Ron," he said as he quickly turned around.

"The one and only," Ron Stoppable confirmed with a grin of his own. He cocked his head to one side to peer around Duncan. "Oh, Amanda?" he called in a sing song voice. "I think I found something you left at the gift shop."

Duncan blinked and racked his memory to see if he had ever encountered this Immortal before.

"Oh, I was wondering where he'd disappeared to," Amanda said as left Duncan's side to capture the new arrival's arm.

"I don't believe we've met," Duncan said as he offered his hand to the unfamiliar Immortal standing somewhat uncomfortably by Amanda's side.

"This is Nick Wolfe. He was a partner of mine back in the early 21st," Amanda said by way of introduction.

"Happy Birthday," Nick said politely as took Duncan's hand.

"Doh! That's right!" Ron groaned as he slapped his forehead with his free hand. "This is for you. Happy Birthday, Big Mac!" Ron said cheerfully as offered the wrapped present to his former mentor.

Duncan glowered at his irrepressible student. "You're the only one who calls me that," he observed sourly as a fit of giggles broke out behind him at the revelation of his new nickname.

"Big Mac. I like that," Methos commented with an approving nod at Ron.

"Just following the Ron Stoppable motto," Ron declared with an impish grin as he thrust his finger into the air. "Never be normal!"

"So what is this?" Duncan asked curiously as he gave the package a tentative shake. At a certain point Immortals stopped giving other Immortals birthday presents. After all, what does one give to a person who has years to amass a priceless collection of 'antiques.'

"Now the Ron-man might not have had all the centuries the rest of you have to build up the mad bank, but royalties from Bueno Nacho and El Sombrero have been muy bueno," Ron explained smugly as Duncan unwrapped an ancient, dusty bottle of scotch.

Duncan raised an eyebrow as he appraised the label. "Glenmorangie. 2053," he murmured approvingly.

Ron grinned proudly. "As they say on the old eps of _Space Passage: Phase Two_, 'There is no better year.'" He frowned and scratched at his chin thoughtfully. "Actually, since that's the last year they bottled the stuff, and I mean the real stuff mind you, the expression actually holds true."

"Personally, I've always felt that the 2036 was a better year," Methos disagreed as he appropriated the bottle from MacLeod for his own personal inspection. "2053 always tasted just a little bit rushed to my palate."

"Hey! Do you have any idea how much that bottle cost?" Ron asked indignantly as Methos peremptorily began to open the ancient bottle of scotch.

Methos paused momentarily in his efforts and fixed Ron with an admonishing look. "Fine liquor, like the company of friends, is meant to be be enjoyed, not hoarded to gather dust on some shelf."

"Eh, got me there," Ron conceded to the older Immortal. "But you do have to admit that because someone decided to hoard that bottle is the reason why we get to enjoy it today."

Methos nodded in agreement before passing the freshly opened bottle of scotch to the guest of honor. "Mac, if you'll do the honors."

Duncan took the bottle and began pouring into the glasses someone had thoughtfully gotten from the bar. Somberly he passed the libations around the table, pouring the scotch bottled nearly 150 years ago brought memories of days long past rushing back to the surface.

"To absent friends," Duncan toasted as he lifted his glass. "To Richie Ryan."

Methos nodded. "To Joe Dawson."

"To Steve Barkin," Kate added with a wistful sigh.

"To Hugh Fitzcairn," Amanda said as she raised her glass.

"To Bert Meyer," Nick chimed in.

"To Alex Trebeck," Ron said enthusiastically and then noted the pained looks that the other Immortals were leveling at him. "What?" he said defensively.

Methos clucked apologetically as Amanda leaned over. "The purpose of a toast is to remember someone you actually knew," she gently informed Ron.

"What makes you guys think I didn't know Alex Trebeck?" he asked innocently and the rest of the Immortals settled for giving Ron a disgusted look. Ron's face fell for a moment before it broke into a broad grin. "Psyche! I'm just playing you guys. I'm not quite the buffoon I play on TV."

He raised his glass again, this time with a serious, but faraway look on his face. "Well, no matter the toast, I always drink to one person," Ron said softly. "To Kim Possible, the girl who can do anything."

Mount Yamanochi, Japan – 729 AD

The flames from the burning monastery reached high into the night sky; bathing the peak of Mount Yamanochi in lurid color as two figures warily circled each other. The samurai had long since discarded his helmet and streaks of blood dripped from jagged rents in his armor as he favored his right side. The Briton stood in equally bad shape, blood seeping from a long gash in his left side and his free hand clutched his ribs protectively. Both combatants panted from the exertion of their long battle as they felt their flesh knit back together with that special magic that was common to both of them.

With a simultaneous roar, the two swordsmen charged forward and hacked at each other savagely. Finesse and technique had long since given way to sheer endurance and brutality as the two warriors simply sought to overpower the other. Like the inexorable tides the two crashed time and again against each other, the ringing of the blades echoing in the burning night. Finally, Briton slipped and fell to one knee and the samurai leapt forward with victory shining in his eyes as he swung his blade for the other's neck.

The steely ring of metal striking metal covered the agonized gasp that spilled from pained lips. Surprised, the samurai looked down at the blade protruding from his chest even as the Lotus Blade tumbled from his suddenly nerveless fingers. Toshimiru's mouth trembled open in a bloody gasp and a fountain of bright blood rushed past his pale lips as he sank helplessly to his knees.

"A worthy fight," the victor commented wearily as he pulled his blade free with an accompanying shower of blood.

"Honorless cur," Toshimiru hissed from between clenched teeth as he stared accusingly at the steely glint that shone from under the other Immortal's silk high-necked collar.

The Briton Immortal smiled as he stroked the disguised gorget around his throat. "It's not in the rules," he gloated with a cruel smile.

"Your mentor should have taught you better, Corbin Dale," Toshimiru snarled defiantly in an attempt to stall for time as he felt some strength return to his arm.

Corbin shrugged. "Actually, Dominic congratulated my ingenuity before I took his head." He tugged at a hidden clasp and released the collar to reveal a nasty looking scar decorating the right side of his neck. "He gave me this, years ago, as an object lesson on not letting my guard down."

"You... should have listened better," Toshimiru growled as his fumbling fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword and he stabbed it forward in a disemboweling thrust.

"Don't do that," Corbin admonished almost petulantly as he sidestepped the clumsy stroke and stabbed the samurai in the chest again for good measure. "You really shouldn't interrupt another Immortal when he's gloating."

"That's... not... in the... rules," Toshimiru ground out, throwing Corbin's words back into his teeth. Corbin looked coolly down at his beaten opponent, his eyes bearing no malice. The only thing that mattered was the Game.

"True," Corbin agreed as he drew his sword from Toshimiru's chest with a steely rasp and raised it up over his shoulder. "Well, we might as well get this over with. After all, in the end there can be only one."

_IN THE DAYS BEFORE MEMORY. THERE WERE THE IMMORTALS.  
__WE WERE WITH YOU THEN. AND WE ARE WITH YOU NOW.  
__WE ARE DRIVEN BY THE ENDLESS FIGHT TO SURVIVE  
__IN A GAME WHICH KNOWS NO LIMIT OF TIME OR PLACE._

_WE ARE THE SEEDS OF LEGEND,  
__BUT OUR TRUE ORIGINS ARE UNKNOWN.  
__WE SIMPLY ARE._

Next: Chapter 1: Humpty Dumpty

A/N: 'lo all. Thanks for giving this a read and remember to drop a review and let me know what y'all think.

For the past year I've been intrigued by the possibility of doing a KP/Highlander crossover and interestingly enough, it doesn't appear that anyone has done so before. I could be mistaken though. Hopefully this won't end up being too formulaic, but I intend to have fun with it. Magic sword. Nuff said.

Sadly, at the moment I am not as well versed with the Highlander continuity as I'd like to be. A situation that I hope to correct within the next month or so. I will be merging continuities from the movies as well as the series, including the short lived Raven.

I do intend some slight departure from semi-established lore though. Chiefly, in that not all Immortals are foundlings. In Highlander: Endgame, Connor MacLeod's mother was burned at the stake for not renouncing her son. A simple matter of the truth setting one free. So I put that Connor was born out of his mother and wasn't a foundling.

Now for the obligatory disclaimer. I don't own Kim Possible or Highlander.


	2. Chapter 1: Humpty Dumpty

A Kind of Magic  
By Parareru

Disclaimer: I don't own Kim Possible or Highlander.

A/N: This story is set in Kim and Ron's sophomore year of college. Everything portrayed through So The Drama is considered canon.

**Chapter 1: Humpty Dumpty**

Mount Yamanochi – Present Day

Master Sensei of the Yamanochi school sat in the Chamber of the Lotus in a state of deep meditation. He could feel the warm caress of the sun's rays against his weathered skin as he sat in that trance-like state, his bodily functions slowed to practically nothing. If he so chose, Master Sensei could have counted every single mote of dust that had settled on top of his head in the last hour. In that state, he could see many things. Days of long ago; distant lands; friends, old and new; nothing was denied to him. At this moment his mind was drawn half way around the world, where the Chosen One slumbered like a chick in the egg, ready to at any moment to discard his mortal shell and truly become the Chosen One of Yamanochi.

Master Sensei's eyes suddenly snapped open, his trance shattered by the shock of fear, pain and wonderment that coursed through him. In a single instant the order of the universe had abruptly shifted. Another Immortal had entered the world, the Chosen One of Yamanochi, his birthing cries echoed through the very stones from half a world away. Master Sensei stiffly rose to his feet, ready at long last, to carry out the charge the ancient sorcerer Nakano had laid before his ancestors.

"Summon Yori," he told the young student who stood guard outside the meditation room. In a flash, the young man was off as Master Sensei opened the secret alcove hidden behind the School's shrine. With steady hands, he withdrew a box the length of a child's arm and placed it reverently in front of the shrine.

"The weapon of the Chosen One lies ready, ancestors," he intoned solemnly as he pressed his palms together and bowed deeply before the shrine. "At long last Yamanochi's charge is fulfilled and out debt is repaid to Nakano-sama."

"Master Sensei, you called for me?" Yori asked hesitantly as she approached the shrine with her head reverently bowed. Dressed in her form fitting ninja gi, she wiped a light sheen of perspiration from her forehead having just come from afternoon exercises.

Master Sensei bowed once again to the shrine before he rose to his feet and turned to face Yori. "Leave us. Everyone," he commanded the guard standing at the door as well as the ones hidden around them. As one, the ninjas all departed from their posts in puffs of rapidly dispersing smoke, granting Master Sensei and Yori the rarest and most precious commodity of all in a ninja school. Complete and utter privacy.

For one long moment the two stood there in an uncertain silence.

"It has been many years since we began this journey together, Yori-chan," Master Sensei finally said as he took her smooth hands in his wrinkled ones. He sighed deeply with an old regret as he was once again forced to consider the apparent disparity between their ages.

Yori smiled warmly at her old friend, protector, teacher, lover and husband. "Yes, many years. Many good years, Jiro," she said as she enfolded him in a tender embrace and planted an equally tender kiss on his cheek. Once more she lamented the unfairness of the universe where she was forced to watch the vibrant young teacher of the Yamanochi school she had fallen in love with so many years ago wither away into old age while she remained eternally youthful. The blessing and curse of her Immortality. She could only begin to guess at how much it pained Jiro to see her like this.

"No regrets, Yori," Jiro said gently as he held the woman who had become his wife close.

"Liar," Yori scoffed softly. "I know that in your heart you've always wanted a family."

Jiro smiled faintly. "I have family," he stated as he drew back so that Yori could look at the truth in his eyes. "I have you and I have the students. What more does a man need?"

Yori lowered her eyes in shame. "I-I would have borne your children if I could," she whispered as the tears finally began to fall.

Jiro gently cupped Yori's cheek in his palm and erased the tears with sure strokes of his thumb. "As I said before, dear heart. No regrets. I knew the perils of falling in love with an Immortal, but it was my choice to make."

"If only I was not an Immortal," she nearly sobbed.

"Then you would have died that day in Tokyo and we would never have met," Jiro reminded her, his voice uncharacteristically sharp. "I would willingly choose this heartache now than live a thousand years without you."

Yori gave Jiro a wan smile and swallowed the rest of her objections.

Jiro gave Yori a reassuring smile. "My time is nearing its end, but in due time, perhaps in a century or two, Stoppable-san may prove a good match for you."

Yori blinked back the tears. "Same Jiro. Always trying to take care of me," she finally said as import of his words sunk in. In his own way he was telling her that it was again time for her to leave. Only this time Jiro was essentially releasing her from their marriage vows and encouraging her to pursue a relationship with another.

Jiro barked a short, harsh laugh. "If that were true, then I would keep you here on holy ground, hidden from Immortal eyes by Nakano's magic."

"Then it has finally happened," she murmured in wonder. "Stoppable-san has finally realized his destiny."

"He has taken the first step," Jiro confirmed and gently retreated to a chaste distance to present her with the lacquered case that the Lotus blade resided in. "The first of many."

Jiro bowed his head once more and when he finally raised his head to meet Yori's gaze, they were once again Master Sensei and student.

"You must prepare yourself for a long journey, Yori. The Chosen One has need of the Lotus Blade."

**XXXXX**

Go city – Only moments ago

Drakken was getting away.

Kim didn't care.

Drakken had in his possession a stolen Hi-Capacity Particle Generator, stolen before it could be delivered to the Go City Institute of Technology where it would then be installed in their new Linear Accelerator.

Kim didn't care.

With that technology in his hands Drakken could flash fry a continent. If he managed to get the device into orbit he could hold the entire world ransom and declare himself King, President, Emperor or whatever the hell he wanted.

Kim didn't care.

It didn't matter anymore.

None of it mattered anymore.

She sobbed in heartache, hoping for some miracle as she knelt there by Ron's side. Her hand stroked his still cheek as tears fell against Ron's black mission shirt. But there was just that horrible stillness, no steady rise and fall of his chest to tell her that he was still breathing. She just stared at Ron's chest, her eyes searching for some sign of movement, the smallest sign of life. Kim laid her head mournfully against Ron's chest, but there was only silence, no comforting rhythm of his heart.

Kim buried her face in Ron's shirt, her mane of red hair draped over his face like a shroud and she let the tears flow freely.

It was supposed to be a simple mission.

Nip Drakken's latest take over the world scheme right in the bud by foiling his snatch and grab operation. Have Global Justice cart the mad scientist off to jail and hopefully they would have a few days of peace before the next mission came up.

It was supposed to be so simple.

**XXXXX**

"So why are we here again?" Ron asked as he laid next to Kim on top of a stack of wooden crates. "Ya know, as opposed to being on our date?"

"DaCorr Technologies' security cameras caught some footage of Shego casing this warehouse," Kim answered quietly as she kept an eye on the entrances.

"It would be just like Drakken and Shego to ruin date night," Ron groused sourly. Over the past couple of years Ron had gotten rather used to the tradition of their established date night. He had even written it on his calendar as his official Kim night. He'd been planning to take Kim out for a nice dinner and a little dancing.

Ron had initially balked at dancing the first time they had gone to the club, but it had grown on him. Dancing was always nice with Kim. He enjoyed watching the way she moved on the dance floor. Even better since he was the one that was dancing exclusively with her. Every so often a few guys would try to cut in and muscle Ron out, but Kim wouldn't have any of that. She only danced for and with Ron.

And Kim certainly wasn't the only one who attracted some attention. Occasionally, some woman would take a shine to Ron and try to freeze Kim out, but he only had eyes for Kim. The other girls may as well not have existed for all the attention Ron paid to them.

They had been on their way to the restaurant when they had gotten the call from Wade that Drakken and Shego were up to no good. Ron had suggested maybe dumping this problem into GJ's lap, after all, they were the paid professionals, but apparently Team Possible was specifically requested for this mission. They barely had enough time to return to Ron's apartment to change into their mission gear before their ride arrived to whisk them off to Go City.

Drakken and Shego out of jail. It was a staggering concept to wrap one's mind around. After the Diablo-bot plot that caused billions in damage not to mention more than a few casualties world wide it was simply amazing that that Drakken and Shego had gotten out of prison at all. But every nation that held a Bueno Nacho within their borders demanded their pound of flesh. In more than a couple of instances the nation in question meant that in a very literal sense. It was just such a jurisdictional nightmare that had afforded Drakken and Shego their opportunity to escape.

The best guess that Kim could come up with was that after nearly a year with little progress, one government, or perhaps even more than one, got tired of all the diplomatic wrangling that was going exactly nowhere. All the evidence pointed towards a heavily armed assassination team breaking into the prison block to permanently take care of the situation. In the ensuing chaos, Shego somehow managed to bring her unique plasma power into play and escape with Drakken.

Drakken and Shego actually laid low for a period of time, no doubt rebuilding their capital and trying to determine where to go from there. The outstanding warrants made their movements difficult and the bounties placed on their heads had even a few fellow villains out on the hunt for them. For some of them the hunt was something of a personal vendetta. Apparently Dementor and Duff Killigan had a couple of Diablo-bots in their possession when Drakken had activated them and they wanted payback. Ron of course wanted to know what the two villains had been doing buying Bueno Nacho kiddie meals in the first place.

It looked like Drakken and Shego had spent considerable time and money to restore their standing in the villainous community. The fact that they had almost taken over the world worked slightly in their favor, but no one was willing to work with them. The rest of the villains considered Drakken to be under some sort of a curse or a jinx. After all, to come so close to taking over the world, by all accounts even taking Kim Possible out of the equation, but then to have it all topple down at the very last second. It had to be a jinx.

As a result, Drakken was left with very few resources on hand and had to get back to basics so to speak. Namely, stealing parts for some elaborate doomsday device and then use that to take over the world. He didn't even have any henchmen to his name. To the man all of them opted to find employment with some other villainous mastermind, preferably one that offered dental. In a way, the situation held an air of nostalgia for Team Possible, Drakken would steal something, build something else, they'd foil the plot and be back home in time for school. Perhaps if they finished the mission in enough time they'd be able to hit the Go city club scene.

Kim gave Ron a sympathetic smile and squeezed his shoulder. "We'll make up for it later," she promised and jerked her head towards the entrance. "For now, just take it out on the two of them."

Ron brightened a little at Kim's promise of later before his expression turned dark and sour once again. "Would you believe Drakken forgot my name again? I swear he does it on purpose just to irk me. Next time I think I'm gonna tattoo it on his forehead."

"That would be obscene," Kim observed dryly. "What would it say, 'property of Ron Stoppable?'" She laughed softly at Ron's slightly sheepish shrug. "Head in the game, Ron. Like I said, I'll make it up to you later." She leaned closer to Ron, bringing her lips within an inch of his ear. "Besides, you wouldn't want to make me jealous," she breathed playfully.

Ron swallowed hard and dutifully tried to get his head back in the game by ignoring Kim's teasing remarks. Normally this would be a perfect time to have Rufus pop up, but his dear naked mole rat was enjoying the company of the tweebs. One of the traditions that they'd established for date night.

"So what's Drakken going to steal?" Ron asked curiously to change the subject as he raised his head to scan the warehouse's contents. On the side of the several crates he could see some labels and manifests declaring the goods as kitchenware.

Kim pointed to a large unmarked cargo container about the size of a mini-van in the center of the warehouse. "Wade figured that the only thing that Drakken could be after is the Hi-Capacity Particle Generator."

"Well, it's no Pan Dimensional Vortex Inducer," Ron observed, noting the disparity in size between the two devices that could be used for the purpose of mad science. "So how come they're storing death ray parts in this dusty warehouse?"

Kim would have wondered the same thing herself except she knew the real and perfectly benign purpose of the Particle Generator. "It's not death ray parts," Kim explained patiently. "It's supposed to go the Go City Institute of Technology."

Ron gave Kim a puzzled look. "GCIT is building a death ray?"

Kim blew a frustrated breath from between her teeth. She truly loved him, but at times she forgot how incredibly dense Ron could be. "No," she said firmly. "GCIT is building a Linear Accelerator for their Particle Physics research."

Ron looked at her blankly at this last bit of information. "Peaceful research. Good science, not the mad kind," Kim explained further.

"Oh, okay then," Ron said agreeably enough as he took another look around the warehouse. "So are we absolutely sure then that Drakken's not just redecorating his lair?"

This time it was Kim's turn to give Ron a blank look. "I think I know my arch foe, Ron. He's stealing the Particle Generator so he can build a death ray and take over the world."

Ron shook his head. "I dunno, KP. You saw how he took to the advice he got when we were stuck in _Evil Eye for the Bad Guy_."

"I'm still trying to forget." Kim shuddered and made a face as she recalled the outfit that the Evil Eye Trio had dressed Drakken in. She'd seen much more of the mad scientist than she ever wished to see in her life. "He's stealing the Hi-Capacity Particle Generator to take over the world."

"Kitchen appliances," Ron said in a sing song voice.

"Take. Over. The world," Kim growled fiercely.

Ron shook his head sagely. "Kim, Kim, Kim. It's not always about taking over the world. Drakken's after kitchen appliances."

Her patience wearing a little thin, Kim decided it was simply easier to humor her boyfriend than to make him see that she was right. There would be plenty of time later for an 'I-told-you-so' lecture with the requisite 'punishment' after Drakken had been captured.

The sudden squeal of tortured metal instantly brought Kim back into mission mode. Both she and Ron instinctively hunkered down against their concealing crate. With another shuddering crash the door to the warehouse burst off its hinges in a flash of green plasma. Only one person in the world made a blast like that.

"Ooh, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo," Drakken chortled gleefully as he skipped through the door that Shego had just blasted open. "I feel like a kid in a candy store."

"You're acting like a kid in a candy store," Shego pointed out.

"Sorry, Drakken. But you know what they say. No candy before bedtime," Kim declared as she flipped from her hiding place to nimbly land in front of the villainous duo and bar their path further into the warehouse.

"That's right! This warehouse of kitchen appliances is safe from you, Drakken," Ron declared boldly as he too sprang from concealment.

"Kim Possible? And the buffoon!" the evil scientist gasped in surprise. Quickly his look of surprise changed to one of confusion as he swiveled his head between the two heroes. "Appliances? I'm here to steal the Hi-Capacity Particle Generator," Drakken corrected.

"See Ron?" Kim admonished her partner, tossing him a quick annoyed look.

Ron looked crestfallen and seemed to wilt slightly. "So you're not trying to renovate your lair?" he asked weakly.

Drakken paused at that. "Why? What's wrong with it?" he asked curiously.

"Dude, haven't you heard? Chrome is so out. Kitchenware is all in color now," Ron pointed out. "And don't even get me started about the rest of your lair."

"Hmm, really?" Drakken responded, genuinely intrigued by this decorating tip. "You know, I have been giving some thought about redecorating the lair. But _Evil Eye for the Bad Guy_ won't return any of my phone calls."

"Ahem. Can we get on with this?" Shego interrupted disgustedly as she gestured with plasma enshrouded hands towards where Kim stood watching Ron and Drakken's discussion with a look of utter disbelief on her face.

"Oh, yes, right, go ahead, Shego," Drakken ordered distractedly with a dismissive wave of his hand before turning his attention back to Ron. "So what _is_ the hot color this season?"

"Honestly. Why do I even bother?" Shego groaned half-heartedly before she leapt for Kim, her glowing hands outstretched. She slashed and kicked at the heroine, giving it her all. She owed the Princess all sorts of payback for her time in prison.

Ron shrugged in response to Drakken's question. "Well, personally, I'm leaning towards Retro Red, but I heard that Fusion Fuchsia is almost impossible to find."

"Are you absolutely sure your boyfriend's straight," Shego taunted Kim as she slashed with her glowing claws.

Kim dodged and parried Shego's deadly hands. "He'd dress better if he wasn't," she retorted confidently. Suddenly she smirked as she decided to borrow a page from Shego's book and toss one her favorite tactics back in her face. "And trust me. The way he kisses. Definitely straight."

Shego made a face. "Okay. Too much info, Princess."

"What's the matter, Shego? Jealous?" Kim taunted as she took advantage of Shego's momentary pause and went on the offensive.

"Of you and the buffoon?" Shego snarled furiously at her rival's flippant attitude. She ducked under Kim's spinning kick and sprang backwards while throwing bolts of plasma from her fists to cover her retreat.

Kim dodged the blasts, flipping neatly out of the way by a wide margin. "I mean, when's the last time you got any action at all," she continued her string of taunts enraging her opponent into a nearly incandescent fury. "Unless someone made you their girlfriend while you were in prison."

"WHAT?" Shego roared as her fists flared brighter than they ever had before.

"Was she gentle? Please tell me she was gentle," Kim smirked, knowing full well that such a look of condescension was guaranteed to drive Shego over the edge.

With a wordless cry of rage, Shego charged for Kim, all thoughts of tactics and finesse lost in her blind fury. Kim coolly calculated the closing distance between the two of them and sidestepped the enraged lunge like an expert matador as she seized Shego's elbow and shoulder. Kim spun in place, using Shego's momentum against her and flung the villainess into a pile of crates that exploded in an eruption of green flame.

"Hey! I saw that first!" Ron protested shrilly as he and Drakken reached for the same package. Kim turned her head to catch the ludicrous sight of Ron and Drakken rummaging and squabbling over boxes of kitchen appliances.

"Well, I call double dibs!" Drakken retorted as he viciously wrenched the package from Ron's grasp, sending the blonde stumbling back into a large stack of boxes which promptly toppled on top of him.

"I'm okay!" came Ron's muffled voice as Drakken briefly inspected his prize before tossing it aside with another frustrated grunt.

"Drakken! What the hell are you doing?" Shego demanded as she blasted the remaining debris off of her and brushed the splinters from her uniform. She glared at Kim who stood there waiting for her with a smug expression that Shego oh so desperately wanted to wipe off of her face with a swipe of her claws.

"I'm looking for a stand mixer in Fusion Fuchsia," Drakken shot back as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to be doing at the moment.

"WHY?" Shego bellowed in rage, taking a kick to the midsection as penalty for her momentary lack of attention.

"Haven't you heard? Fusion Fuchsia is this season's 'it' color," he answered as he tossed another box onto his discard pile.

"Can we _FOCUS_ here?" Shego demanded as she retaliated with a punch-kick combo that had Kim backing up on the defensive.

"Shego, it's not always about taking over the world," Drakken responded in a slightly injured tone. He inspected the box at hand and suddenly grinned. "Aha! I've found it!" he cried victoriously as he held aloft the box holding the coveted Fusion Fuchsia stand mixer.

Shego growled and backflipped away from Kim's attack towards their original objective. "If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself," she muttered disgustedly as she slapped a homing beacon on the crate containing the Particle Generator. "Game over, Kimmie."

Shego threw her hands skyward, blasted away a sizable portion of the roof above her. Immediately, a dozen clawed grapples streaked through the opening and latched onto the massive crate. "Dr. D! We're leaving now!" Shego as she leapt on top of the rising crate.

"Catch Shego!" Drakken yelled as he tossed his pilfered prize to his sidekick.

"Would you forget the mixer already?" Shego yelled back as she reflexively caught the box. She briefly considered tossing the box back over the side, but wisely figured that Drakken would immediately dive to the rescue of his precious mixer. With a burst of speed that surprised everyone present, himself included, Drakken made a flying leap that carried him halfway up the ascending container and scrabbled up the ladder welded to the side.

Kim fired off a grapple line and zipped up the line after the pair of escaping villains just as the container cleared the hole in the roof. She swung her legs to alter her trajectory and flipped over the lip of the blasted opening. She pulled the trigger of her grapple once to reload the grappler tip and heard Ron's grapple fire below her. Kim took aim at the container with her reloaded grappler. Already Drakken's hover ship had nearly lifted it beyond range. She didn't have time to wait for Ron's backup and she could call in Global Justice's choppers once she'd latched her line onto the container.

Shego spotted Kim taking aim at them with her damn hairdryer turned grapnel gun and let loose with a volley of plasma bolts. Kim spotted the bolts of plasma energy angling for her and dodged out of the way. Kim stumbled about on the uneven surface of the damaged roof as Shego's blasts exploded around her. She nimbly leapt over the green explosions, springing off of one hand while keeping her target within her sight. Kim came to rest on one knee behind the hole and let her grapple fly the same instant Shego launched another volley. Kim's shot flew true while Shego's fell short and lanced through the hole in the roof.

Kim glanced downward as she hit the retract control on the grappler and her heart froze in her chest as she saw a stray bolt of verdant plasma slice neatly through the top of Ron's grappler, effectively destroying the gadget. Her own grappler slipped from her grasp as she desperately lunged for Ron's outstretched arm. She saw Ron drop his now useless grappler as he reached for the salvation of her hands. She felt the tips of her fingers brush against the tips of his before gravity resumed its hold on Ron and pulled him earthward once more. She reached for her grappler, realizing too late that it was still attached to Drakken's stolen cargo container. Horrified, she could only watch helplessly as Ron plummeted towards the ground, a frightened look on his face as his arms pinwheeled about, wildly seeking purchase in the thin air. Kim reached for Ron across that distance and futilely screamed his name.

The cavernous warehouse seemed to echo with a sickening crack as Ron crashed into the ground and the world went dark around her. The next thing Kim knew she was on her hands and knees on the warehouse floor, a cold sweat drenching her mission shirt. Her throat felt raw. Had that been her voice she had heard screaming Ron's name? She looked numbly at the shallow gash that split the sleeve of her mission shirt and left a thin trail of blood seeping down her arm. Had that happened during her frantic scramble down from the roof? She couldn't remember.

She looked up and saw Ron lying in the center of a pool of moonlight on the dusty warehouse floor. Her heart hammering in her chest, Kim rose on unsteady feet and stumbled towards Ron. Kim's legs finally gave out as she reached Ron's side and saw his sightless eyes staring up at her. Her mouth fell open in horror, but she couldn't get anything resembling speech out past her trembling lips. She felt cold all over and could barely breathe as she just stared at the surprised expression on Ron's face. With violently shaking hands she pulled the Kimmunicator from her pocket and tried to remember how the device worked. She furiously tapped away at the buttons, blinking through the tears as she searched desperately for the setting that would make everything right again. Where Ron wouldn't be lying on the warehouse floor, dea...

Kim suddenly flung the useless Kimmunicator away from her in a fit of rage as she hammered Ron's still chest with her fists. "Get up, Ron! You can't leave me like this! Get up! GET UP!" she screamed repeatedly.

She screamed her grief as she gathered Ron's still body in her arms and rocked back and forth. How long she continued to wail like that Kim couldn't say, but it felt like all the sorrow and heartache she would ever feel in her entire life was channeled into that one moment.

Finally, minutes or hours or days later, when it seemed as though her capacity for grief had been completely burned out of her, she laid Ron's body back on the ground and quietly sobbed. It was all her fault. If she had just let GJ tackle this assignment... If she and Ron had just gone on their date like they had planned... If she had never started this hero business... Ron would be alive right now. She knew that she should find the Kimmunicator and call Wade, GJ, somebody, anybody. But that seemed so... so final. She just couldn't bring herself to do it. The moment seemed so unreal that the instant she brought someone else into it would bring reality crashing down around her and she didn't think that she could face a reality without Ron in it.

"I'm sorry, Ron. I'm so sorry," she sobbed as she straightened, closed Ron's staring eyes and again laid her hand on his shoulder.

Suddenly, Ron gasped for breath and sat bolt upright with a panicked wild eyed cry. Kim squeaked in surprise and shrank away from him, her eyes wide as saucers.

"Oh, man! Did that ever _SUCK_!" Ron groaned expressively, drawing out the last word as he slowly reached up to massage his neck.

"Ron?" Kim asked in a small voice as she reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, to touch him and confirm that she wasn't just hallucinating.

"Yeah, KP?" Ron said, wincing slightly as he turned his head to look at her. He blinked and wondered why it looked like she had been crying.

"You're okay! You're okay!" Kim fairly shouted in relief as she flung her arms around Ron and squeezed for dear worth. He was real, he was there, he was ALIVE!

"Ow! Easy there, Kim. The back's feeling a bit tender," Ron gasped, but even as he said that he felt the pain fade into little more than a distant memory. Instinctively, his arms wrapped around Kim, holding her close.

"Oh, thank God. I thought I lost you," Kim whispered in relief.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere, KP," Ron murmured, confused by this turn of events even as he reassuringly stroked Kim's back.

"You're alive," Kim breathed softly in wonder against his shoulder as she trembled uncharacteristically in his arms. She leaned deeper into his embrace, the warmth of Ron's body, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat, all reassured her that this miracle had truly come to pass. She squeezed him tighter to her, grateful beyond words could express, but not willing to let go, half-afraid that the moment she did so, Ron would vanish. "You're alive," she whispered again.

Ron raised an eyebrow at Kim's baffling choice of words. He felt fine and except a slight tinge of discomfort that was rapidly vanishing, he really had no complaints. It wasn't as if he hadn't taken a fall before and...

"Oh man!" he groaned suddenly in disgust and Kim drew back slightly, a worried question forming in her eyes. "Drakken got away with the Particle thingamabob," Ron explained, paused suddenly and took an experimental sniff of the air before he cast his head down sheepishly. "And I think I messed my boxers when I fell."

Kim laughed as she resumed holding Ron close. "Well, as far as the first goes, we'll get him. It's what we do. And as for the second. Eww." But even as she said that and wrinkled her nose to let Ron know what she thought about the second half of his confession she still made no move to release Ron from her embrace.

Ron shrugged. "Well, before we go get Drakken, can I at least change into a new pair of pants?"

**XXXXX**

An entire squad of GJ agents marched the two villains out the ruined lair side by side as Kim and Ron watched from a discreet distance.

"You think you're all that, but you're not!" Drakken shouted as he caught sight of Kim and Ron.

"You just couldn't leave the mixer behind, could you?" Shego asked acidly as the GJ agents steered her towards the specially shielded wagon that would haul her off to prison. "We were all set to leave when your special beam cannon or whatever you were calling it went pffft, but you couldn't leave your stupid mixer!

"Fusion Fuchsia was impossible to find, Shego!" Drakken shot back in justification of his blunder as he was steered to a separate, albeit less secure wagon of his own. "Besides, I had a batch of peanut butter stickies in it!"

Shego growled in frustration. "Okay! Next time I bust out of prison, you're not coming with!" she declared hotly.

"What? Shego! You can't leave me in prison! I bruise so easily!" Drakken pleaded as he fell to his knees beside his formidable sidekick.

"I mean it this time!" Shego yelled back, held back by her guards from delivering a kick to Drakken's side. "You want out, you can do it yourself! I quit!"

"No, Shego! I'll double your salary! More vacation time! Dental! Anything but that!" Drakken cried pitifully, but Shego resolutely ignored the mad scientist's increasingly desperate pleas.

"So, think she means it this time?" Ron asked Kim as he jerked a thumb in Shego's general direction.

Kim shrugged. "With Shego? Who can tell?" They watched as Drakken continued to plead with Shego to reconsider before the GJ guards finally managed to stuff the mad scientist into his own prison van. At least they were keeping Drakken and Shego separated. For some reason whenever Drakken and Shego were hauled off the prison together, they seemed more likely to escape. Surprising really, but Wade had compiled the figures and the numbers didn't lie.

"You know that relationship, as weird as it is, seems to work for some reason. It'd be kinda sad if it just ended like that," Ron observed as a lanky figure in GJ uniform broke away from the rest of the agents and made its way towards their vantage point.

Kim leveled a knowing look at Ron. "Please tell me that you're not thinking what I know you're thinking."

"What?" Ron asked innocently. "I was just thinking that maybe the two of them needed to see a marriage counselor or something while they're in prison."

"They're not married, Ron," Kim pointed out with a tired sigh.

He gave Kim a puzzled look in return. "No? You coulda fooled me."

She gave Ron a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thanks."

"For what?' Ron asked curiously.

"Gives me a little something to work with the next time I fight with Shego," Kim answered. "She comments about my love life, I'll comment about hers."

"Huh? Love life?" Ron asked clueless.

"Yeah. Like this," Kim said as she wrapped her arms around Ron's neck pulled him in for a deep kiss.

"Booyah, that was nice with the lips and the kissing and do you have another one there cause could I please have one more or two for the road," he murmured appreciatively as he came up for air, pulling his lips only a fraction of an inch away from Kim's.

He was close enough to feel Kim's lips turn up into a pleased smile. "Oh, definitely," she murmured back as she leaned forward to close the gap between them once again.

"Ahem," a not so discreet couch interrupted the moment, forcing the two of them to reluctantly untangle themselves from one another.

"Dude. You just had to ruin the moment, didn't you?" Ron asked sourly as he fixed Will Du with a baleful glare. "You just couldn't let me have a quick kiss with my girlfriend?"

Will ignored Ron's comments, much to the blonde's annoyance and turned to Kim. "Miss Possible, I'd like to thank you for your assistance in apprehending these two criminals. You have Global Justice's sincerest thanks."

"Assistance?" Kim blurted out in surprise. She'd nearly forgotten how incredibly arrogant Will could be.

Ron cocked his head curiously at the GJ agent. "What exactly did you guys do anyway? Kim fought Shego. I distracted Drakken from finishing his death ray. We recovered the Particle thingie. Nope, can't see where GJ helped at all, can you KP?"

Kim shook her head silently and kept from giggling as Will's expression grew flintier by the second as Ron made each of his points.

Will gave Ron a chilly look that did little to faze him. "That information is classified and on a need to know basis."

"O-kay," Ron said slowly. "So translated ... a big fat nothing then. Works for me. No, wait, I forgot. GJ's gonna carry the Particle thingamabob back to Go city. Thanks a lot. Good job. Or should I wait until after it gets to Go City before saying thanks? Dude, does this make you a delivery boy?"

With a slight twitch in his eye, Will ignored Ron's string of cheerfully irreverent comments and turned to Kim, who abruptly composed herself and looked innocently at the far too serious Agent. She had to force herself to refrain from another giggle fit as Ron mocked Agent Du behind his back by silently parroting his words and adding in some inappropriate hand gestures. "Miss Possible, GJ would be more than willing to drop you off back at your base of operations." He suddenly whipped his head around in an attempt to catch Ron in the act, but simply found Ron standing there with a broad grin on his face. Again his eye twitched slightly as he warily turned his attention back to Kim and Ron promptly resumed his antics. "Of course, it is entirely up to you whether or not your _sidekick_ accompanies you."

Kim bristled at Du's disparaging tone. "Oh, he definitely comes with," she replied easily as she reached around the pompous GJ agent to grab Ron's hand in hers and pulled him close as she gave Will a withering look of her own. "And that's partner to you, Agent Du," she corrected primly.

San Francisco – Two days later

"So why are we here again?" Ron asked, turning slightly on the limo's Italian leather seat to look at Kim. Though not on a mission per se, this trip was mission related so the two of them were decked out in their mission togs, black shirts, cargo pants and utility belts with all their mission related gadgets. Well, truth be told, Kim's belt carried the lion's share of the cool toys.

"Mr. Corrbin just wanted to talk with us about the robbery," Kim answered evenly.

"Okay, I didn't mean to break the generator," Ron said defensively, envisioning a bill for a million dollars being delivered to his door by some hulking no neck bruiser.

Kim held up a mollifying hand before Ron could say anything else. "They're not tweaked about that," she explained. "Wade said it would just take minor repairs to fix it. Besides, if anyone should get a bill for repairs it should be Drakken."

"True. I guess turning something into a death ray does kinda void the warranty," Ron agreed and peered out the window in hope of catching sight of their destination. "So why are we here again?" he repeated his question even more confused now.

She shrugged in response, not really knowing the answer herself. "Maybe they want to discuss security on the Generator when it's repaired and delivered to GCIT," Kim guessed. "If Drakken wanted it, then maybe someone else like Dementor or Killigan will make a run at it."

"Well, I suppose it's as good a reason as any," Ron agreed as the limo pulled up to DaCorr Tower.

An impressively tall skyscraper set in the heart of downtown San Francisco, DaCorr Tower had a sort of looming menace to it. It might have been a trick of the light, but the Tower's silhouette struck Ron as forebodingly similar to many of Drakken's lairs. He tried to shake off his concerns and loped forward to regain the ground he had lost. Reaching the doors a fraction of a second ahead of Kim, Ron gallantly opened the door for her and waved her in with a slight bow. By the bright, amused smile Kim bestowed upon him Ron knew that had been the right choice to make.

Despite his best efforts, Ron could not shake the sense of uneasiness that seemed to settle deep within his bones. He whipped his head around, scanning the lobby for any sign that this was some elaborate trap laid for Kim by one of her numerous enemies, but could not spot anything out of the ordinary. His instinctive sense of something wrong grew with every step as they were escorted to the CEO's private express elevator.

Finally, as the elevator began to make its ascent Ron managed to dismiss his concerns. If it had been a trap Kim would have spotted it, he just needed to have faith in her. He glanced over at Kim and saw she was rolling her eyes at the choice of muzak playing over the elevator's speakers. Ron opened his mouth in preparation to make a wry comment guaranteed to elicit another smile on Kim's face when suddenly he doubled over in agony as waves of pain just kept washing over him like an unrelenting flood. It felt like every nerve was on fire and his heart was on the verge of exploding from his chest.

"Ron? Are you okay?" Kim asked in concern, unsure of what had brought on this sudden attack.

Straightening slightly and taking several deep breaths, Ron gave Kim a brave smile as the feelings of pain and discomfort receded, leaving just a strange buzzing sensation at the back of his head. "Y-yeah, I'm fine, Kim," he said haltingly. "What the heck was that?"

Kim continued looking at Ron in concern, feeling his forehead with the back of one hand and checking his pulse with the other. "I'm fine, Kim," Ron repeated in a stronger, steadier voice as he took hold of Kim's hands and draped them behind his neck. "But if you insist on say nursing me back to health..." he left the rest unsaid with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

Kim grinned up at the mirthful twinkle in Ron's eyes as his hands found their way to her hips. "Why Mr. Stoppable," she gasped in feigned shock as she felt Ron's thumbs lightly stroke the bare flesh right above the waist of her cargos. "Are you thinking of something naughty?"

Ron shrugged, his eyes never losing that twinkle. "Only if you're planning to join me in a little naughtiness," he replied with an easy grin.

Kim pulled away slightly from Ron, but managed to keep her fingers linked behind his neck. "Just what sort of girl do you take me for?" she demanded with a teasing pout as she reveled in the playful banter between the two of them.

"Well," Ron drawled as he pursed his lips thoughtfully and looked skyward for a moment before answering. "How about the kinda girl that'll..." He leaned closer and whispered the rest into Kim's ear, eliciting a rosy blush of embarrassment.

"Ron!" she hissed softly, dropping out of the role she had assumed in surprise. "You said you weren't going to mention that."

"Well, the heart wants what the heart wants," Ron answered with a broad grin.

"Heart? Or something further south of the border?" Kim asked wryly as she unlooped her arms from behind Ron's neck and crossed them defensively in front of her chest.

An amused chuckle was Ron's only response to Kim's barb as his grin grew broader and he crossed his arms over his chest in smug satisfaction. "You know what this means, KP," he prompted as his chuckles continued to rumble from his chest.

"No, you're not gonna to make me..." Kim began slowly as it dawned on her what had just happened.

"Yup. You stopped playing along first," Ron confirmed as his grin grew wide enough to nearly split his head in half.

"But I-"

Ron tsked and waggled a finger at Kim, cutting her protests short. "You know the rules. You dropped out first. So..." He gestured for Kim to complete his statement.

"The victory nacos are on me," Kim sighed.

It was a fairly new tradition hearkening back to their first summer together after the Junior prom. The game was fairly simple, a bit of playful banter between the two of them with a couple of naughty suggestions thrown into the mix and who ever was so embarrassed by the repartee that they dropped out of the role first, bought the nacos. Kim rather handily won the first few rounds and enjoyed the novelty of watching Ron pay for the date. Her record was an unmatched fifteen seconds before she had Ron sitting on the floor, wide-eyed and hyperventilating. Though as time passed and Ron gained more experience with the game and her tactics, he'd been able to last longer and mount up a serious defense, even the occasional counterattack, but this had been the first time that Ron had ever gotten the better of her.

"Booyah!" Ron crowed as the elevator chimed to inform them that they had reached their destination. "The Ron-man finally wins a round."

With a soft whoosh the doors parted to reveal a lavishly appointed office on the top floor of the DaCorr Tower. Kim watched Ron carefully as they stepped out of the elevator, wary of a relapse or half expecting him to point out the villainous qualities about doors that go whoosh, but he just followed Kim's lead with tentative steps and a puzzled frown on his face.

The office was divided into two parts. The elevator opened to a large reception area complete with a number of chairs, coffee tables and a secretary behind a large, imposing desk. The secretary waved them through the massive inner doors where the CEO awaited them.

A very real and palpable pressure had Ron hesitantly following after Kim, wondering if what had struck him in the elevator would strike again. He gave her a curious look, wondering how she could not feel what he felt. But if Kim felt any discomfort at all she gave no indication. Ruefully, Ron had to consider that perhaps all he was feeling was a case of jitters and squared his shoulders. It wouldn't do for him to embarrass Kim after all.

Immediately, Ron found his attention riveted on the figure seated behind the large desk and felt a jolt of recognition lance through him even though he knew that he had never met this person face to face before. He stood rooted to the floor as the CEO of DaCorr Technologies rose from his desk with a pleasant smile on his face. An abstract portion of his mind noticed that the man was tall and impeccably dressed in a well tailored suit with a high collar.

"Kim Possible and... Ron Stoppable, I can't thank you enough for coming," the well dressed businessman said gratefully as he shook each of their hands in turn. Kim felt her eyebrows rise as this was the first person outside of Middleton to have gotten Ron's name right without any prompting from her. Kim tried to make sure that Ron received the same recognition that she did, but usually when people remembered Ron at all, they remembered his name as either Roy or Rob or in one rare instance Rambo. Ron had been rather fond of that one until he discovered that they had been trying to say Rainbow in their heavily accented English. And forget about how they managed to mangle Stoppable, there were way too many variations to keep track of.

"How do you do, Mr. Corrbin," Kim said pleasantly.

"Yeah, nice place you got here," Ron commented as he kept a wary eye on the businessman. He couldn't be absolutely sure, but it seemed like Dale Corrbin was the source of the buzzing pressure that currently plagued him.

"Just a little home away from home," he answered with a deprecating wave of his hand. "Thank you so much for coming; like I said earlier, I can not thank you enough for recovering the Hi-Capacity Particle Generator."

"Oh, it was no big, Mr. Corrbin," Kim replied easily.

"Please, my friends call me Dale," Corrbin said with a charming smile.

Kim's professional smile faltered just a bit at that. For the past couple of years, ever since reaching her legal majority she had received more than a few solicitations, most from the rich and famous. Kim knew that she was famous in her own right and attractive to boot, but the man had to be at least twice her age.

"I'd prefer to keep this on a more professional level, thanks," Kim responded with just a hint of frostiness creeping into her voice as her hand grabbed for Ron's possessively.

"I'm sorry. I hope you didn't misunderstand," Corbinn said as he stepped back a pace and settled on the edge of his desk. "As I said before, I can't thank you enough for your help. You must realize that by recovering our package you've saved my company several million dollars at the very least, not to mention all of the negative publicity we'd have received if this Drakken fellow had managed to convert our peaceful technology into a weapon of war. If there is anything we can do for you at all."

"Well, usually we just ask for a ride to a future mission in return," Kim answered.

"Oh, of course!" Corrbin exclaimed. "I had heard that about you. Well, then the answer is quite simple then. DaCorr Technologies has a world wide business presence. We'd be more than happy to escort you anywhere in the world for as long as you wish."

"Wow, that's very generous of you," Kim replied slowly. Her one favor, one ride policy had worked well for her over the years. It maintained her independence by not allowing anyone to exert any sort of undue pressure on her to accept or decline any particular mission. As tempting as a permanent source of rides sounded, Kim knew she'd have to decline. They had managed on their own for this long and there was no reason why they wouldn't be able to do so in the future.

"Yeah, thanks, but we manage to make do on our own," Ron cut in abruptly before Kim could decline the offer. "Tell you what; let's call it even right now. After all, you gave us a nice, posh ride, first-class out to see you here in your lovely city. You even sprang for a couple of hotel rooms over at the Ritz."

Corrbin seemed a little taken aback by Ron's sudden input. "And of course, first-class tickets for your flight back."

"Of course," Ron nodded. "So even up all the way. And we really have to be going."

"So soon?" Corrbin asked plaintively.

Kim gave Ron a quizzical look, but he quickly gestured for her to trust him and to follow his lead. She signaled back that he had better have a good reason. "Oh yeah, KP and I, we got studying to do. Lots of studying. College classes and all that. Don't want to tank on our tests," Ron explained hurriedly as he began backing out of the office.

"Well, I can understand that," Corrbin replied as he shook each of their hands again, lingering just a fraction of a second too long before releasing Ron's. "It was a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Uh huh, pleasure's all ours," Ron said quickly as he took Kim by the elbow and steered her towards the waiting elevator. "If you need help again, well, you know who to call."

"Ron?" Kim began as the elevator doors closed.

Ron shook his head. "Not here, KP," he said quickly as he pointed to the security dome in the ceiling of the elevator car. As soon as the elevator reached the ground floor, Ron bolted from its confines and out into the street, half dragging Kim along behind him.

Deciding that enough was enough Kim stubbornly dug her heels into the pavement, effectively dragging Ron to a stop. "Okay, Ron. What the heck was that all about?" she demanded as she rounded on her boyfriend. "And don't tell me it was because the old guy was hitting on me."

Ron shook his head. "That's not why I'm tweaked. He's bad road, KP," he said with a nervous glance over his shoulder.

Kim looked at her boyfriend curiously at that. She'd been expecting that he'd be ecstatic that someone had finally gotten his name right. "Ron, Dale Corrbin is a multimillionaire CEO and has been on the cover of Time, Newsweek, Money, and Forbes."

"Yeah, yeah, hurray for that," Ron agreed absently as he cast another glance behind him. "I just can't shake the feeling that the guy is like five thousand miles of bad road."

"Ron, he's a world class philanthropist," Kim argued.

"Bad road, bad road, bad road," Ron repeated stubbornly, his voice growing more urgent with each repetition.

"Ron, he got your name right," she pointed out. Even as she said it, Kim realized how stupid that sounded.

"Two words, Kim." Ron said as he shook his head stubbornly and held up two fingers to tick off his points. "Monty Fiske."

Kim paused in her defense of the multimillionaire CEO. Ron certainly did have a point. The last time he had a hunch like that, it had proven to be a well founded hunch. "Okay, let's have Wade do some digging on Mr. Corrbin when we get back."

Kim took hold of Ron's hand again and this time took the lead, dragging him in search of a cab. "But for now, I think someone mentioned something about a hotel room."

**XXXXX**

High above the two heroes, seated in his lavishly decorated office the CEO of DaCorr Enterprises, Dale Corbinn, also known as the Immortal Corbin Dale, steepled his fingers and considered the young couple who had just fled from his office only moments ago. Initially, he had been intrigued by the opportunity to meet the famous Kim Possible and tried turning up the charm. Unfortunately, it appeared that the heroine simply wasn't interested, most likely due to the presence of her boyfriend and partner, Ron Stoppable.

Ron Stoppable. Now there was an interesting conundrum. Immortal. And unless he missed his guess, new to his Immortality and entirely unaware of the Game with no Immortal kills to his credit. Normally, not someone who would warrant his attention. He'd have been content to let someone else claim the boy's head. But no, there was something about the boy. His Quickening felt much too powerful for one so new to the Game. He'd heard tale of Immortals like that, Connor MacLeod was reportedly one such Immortal, thus attracting the Kurgan's and Ramirez's attention. Unfortunately, there was no one left who could verify that rumor.

"Cynthia. I want Tristan in my office in one hour," he ordered brusquely through the desk's intercom.

"Yes, Mr. Corrbin. Did you want me to reschedule your meeting with Mr. Hench?" Cynthia asked dutifully.

Corbin swore silently. Sometimes the mendacity of appearing to be little more than a CEO of a multinational corporation could be a little tiring, but the identity of Dale Corrbin was too useful to discard yet. "No. Leave the meeting as is. Wouldn't want to inconvenience Mr. Hench. Have Tristan meet me in two hours instead."

"Yes, Mr. Corrbin," Cynthia answered and he shut off the intercom. It couldn't happen today in his city. Not after meeting with Team Possible. Too many uncomfortable questions would be asked. No, he'd wait a few days and then he'd send Tristan to take young Stoppable's head. Perhaps afterwards it would then be time to harvest Tristan's head as well and maybe take on a new 'apprentice.'

**XXXXX**

Denver – A few days later

"How's the homework coming, KP?" Ron asked pleasantly as he chopped the vegetables for their dinner.

"Fine," Kim called back from where she was nestled up against the couch with her psychology textbook. She blinked and rubbed at her eyes before setting down the book to let her eyes roam around the apartment. Ron's apartment. A modest sized, single bedroom, third floor apartment located in a fairly nice section of Denver. Some would have called it a luxury for a college student, but for Ron it was a necessity really since the dorms had an adamant no pets policy despite his vehement insistence that Rufus was family.

It seemed almost too good to be true, that she and Ron would be able to attend the same college. Senior year in high school Ron had applied himself a little more diligently to his studies, actually managing to bring his grades up. Mr. Barkin had been suitably impressed, but told Ron flat out that his scores wouldn't have the admissions office hammering down his door.

One of Ron's most cherished memory of high school, save for the ones that involved Kim or the prom, had to be the one of Mr. Barkin's slightly sick expression when the instructor learned that Ron had no less than ten acceptance letters from various prestigious universities. It had cost much more than Ron would ever be willing to admit to, but he did manage to acquire a picture of that moment and had it proudly framed on his wall.

As the old adage went, money could not buy happiness, but apparently it could buy one's way into college. Before Drakken had acquired the Bueno Nacho corporation, the naco still had a fairly strong market share on the fast food landscape. So Ron still received royalties of a nickel for every naco sold in Bueno Nacho's more than thirty thousand locations world wide. The checks weren't quite as large as that first one had been, but thirty million dollars built over the course of a year was still nothing to sneeze at.

After the debacle that had occurred where Ron blew millions of dollars on a number of extravagant purchases and carried the rest in cash, which was promptly stolen, his parents decided that a firmer hand was needed. The royalty money was funneled into a trust fund until Ron reached the age of twenty one. Ron's mother had wanted to add a stipulation that Ron would also have to produce a marriage license, thinking that a wife would manage to keep Ron's spending in line, but that had been firmly quashed by the Stoppable men. However, so long as Ron attended an accredited university, money could be pulled from the trust fund to pay for the tuition and provide him a modest living expense. Enough to rent an apartment, pay for groceries and still leave Ron with a little something extra.

There had been one notable exception where Ron had been allowed to tap the trust fund well before attending college. It was a difficult decision for the Stoppable family to make and resulted in a number of heated discussions around the kitchen table, but in the end, it was decided that it was Ron's decision to make. In Ron's opinion, there was only one choice he could have made given the circumstances. Even if it had turned out badly, Ron knew he would have made exactly the same choice if given the option.

In order to save his beloved Bueno Nacho from financial ruin, Ron, with his parents' approval, somewhat grudging on his mother's part, funneled a sizable portion of his royalty money to purchase an equally sizable chunk of the corporation's voting stock. As a result, Bueno Nacho managed to remain solvent until the debut of Ron's newest creation, the Wholly Mole Wrap. The wrap came in a variety of combinations, beef, chicken or vegetarian fillings with a mole, pronounced mo-lay, sauce, wrapped in a flour tortilla. It proved to be a popular dish, testing well with the consumers and beating out the Mexi-Mushroom Wrap. Ron finally had to admit that Hego may have been right and that wraps were the wave of the future.

The success of the new product revitalized the company as well as the balance of Ron's trust fund. By all conservative estimates, Ron was worth something close to fifty million dollars, not counting the value of his stock holdings. His mother ruefully conceded that Ron's investment in Bueno Nacho was a sound business decision rather than the overly emotional one she had initially feared. It appeared that by following his heart her little boy had managed to do well for himself.

Of course, Kim had gotten a full scholarship wherever she had applied, but chose to stay relatively close to home by attending Central Colorado University. Colleges from all over the country had actively courted Kim for her fame, the strength of her academic scores and her extracurricular activities. She could have attended any college within the US and more than a few overseas on a full ride scholarship, but she chose CCU mostly to stay close to her family. Plus, even though she knew rationally that Team Possible could operate effectively from anywhere in the country, there was still a comforting feeling to have Wade close at hand.

Kim would have loved to share the apartment with Ron, but knew that both his mother and her father would go ballistic. Well, truth be told, Ron would have been the one going ballistic courtesy of Mr. Dr. Possible and one of the rockets at the Space Center. She had been able to wrangle a single dorm room for herself, for her own privacy and the safety of the other students, the rather sensitive nature of her mission gear did not mix well with curious hands or prying eyes. Even so, Kim spent much of her free time in Ron's apartment, hanging out, having dinner, studying or just escaping the chaos of dorm life.

So far, they had managed to refrain from turning Ron's apartment into their own private, little love nest. Kim knew that most everyone but their closest friends thought that the two of them were screwing like rabbits trying to repopulate the entire planet. The truth was that they hadn't completely taken their relationship to that level of intimacy in spite of the playful banter the two of them occasionally indulged in. Even that day in San Francisco with the hotel rooms they had managed to restrain themselves from crossing that line, though to be absolutely honest they had toed the line a few times.

It all stemmed from several factors really. This was the first real serious relationship either of them had ever been in and they wanted to take things slowly. Around the middle of their Senior Year Kim had planned out a romantic evening for the two of them while both their parents happened to be out of town and offered to make love. To her shock, embarrassment and even anger Ron had gently declined. He had assured her that it most definitely wasn't her and that as a healthy red-blooded male he desperately wanted to jump on Kim faster than a cheetah on a porterhouse steak. Ron had even given Kim's body an appreciative leer to lend credence to his words and Kim found herself blushing in a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure in spite of her disappointment.

But as devoted as Ron was to Kim, he was also devoted to his Jewish upbringing and the teachings of the Torah and so he wanted to wait. He told Kim that he wanted to love her as a whole, with a love that transcended the mere physical and that they had only just brushed the surface of that love. After Kim had thought about it for a while she realized something about herself. She wanted to wear a white dress at her wedding. It was to be a symbol of purity and she wanted the truth without to mirror the truth within. She had never been very religious, but she knew that Ron was and she realized that the greatest gift she could give him would be her purity on their wedding night. That they would one day be married was a foregone conclusion. It was simply a matter of time. So together they decided that they would be patient and wait. They were young and they had forever.

The first year of college had been great from both of their perspectives. Instead of the random class scheduling that typified high school they had the freedom to choose their classes. For the most part they arranged to take their classes together with the exception of their math or program specific courses. Ron's chronic lack of diligence in that area of his academics precluded him from taking the same math course as Kim, much to his regret.

Ron was genuinely happy in his culinary arts program and was surprised to find that he took to college like a fish took to water. As a college student he could arrange his schedule so that he would never have to see the sunrise, provided of course that Kim arranged her classes by the same criteria. He loved how his culinary courses helped to expand his repertoire, though he would never go so far as to include any manner of insects into any of his dishes. At times, Ron was struck by the absurdity of it all, that restaurants would cheerfully serve some form of bug as a tasty snack, but Rufus was barred from the premises. Fortunately, he kept busy enough that he didn't dwell on that very often.

Surprisingly, Kim's college path was a little less sure. She knew that she wanted to help people, but was uncertain of how to make a career out of it. Initially, she had majored in International Relations, but soon found that she had little patience for the squabbling, bickering and haggling that went on behind the facade of diplomacy. Law was nearly as bad, if not worse with all the procedures and loopholes and general exploitation that people routinely committed in the name of justice. Ironically, it appeared that Law and Justice were two mutually exclusive terms. Kim ruefully had to concede that she didn't have the temperament to work in either of those two fields, her usual kicking butt and taking names style not meshing very well with either career.

Global Justice had been an intriguing possibility, but she was loathe to give up her freelance status and with it her independence. Too often she had seen Dr. Director tied up by miles of bureaucratic red tape which was exactly why the head of Global Justice called her in, to expedite matters. And honestly, she couldn't see herself doing the entire saving the world business twenty years down the line. Plus there was also the fact that if she did join GJ, Will Du would have been her senior officer. The thought of that kept Kim from giving Global Justice any serious consideration.

She already knew that the field of medicine, or more specifically surgery, was not in her future. Watching her mother cut into someone's brain had instantly sent her running in search of the nearest trash bin to violently become reacquainted with her breakfast. She also could not see herself following in her father's footsteps and entering into one of the technical science fields.

That career path was best left to the tweebs, who had actually entered CCU this year as freshmen. Why they continuously chose to follow Kim she would never know. At times she believed that they had been put on this world solely to make her suffer. To their credit they had so far refrained from blowing up anything on the scale of say an entire building, but Kim figured that it was only a matter of time. Occasionally, she had nightmares about the city Denver vanishing in a fireball right after the words 'Hicka-bicka-boo' and 'Hoo-sha' were uttered by a pair of identical voices. On the plus side, having the tweebs on campus made it a little easier dropping Rufus off before heading out on a date.

If only choosing a major was as easy.

So here she was, near the middle of the first semester of her second year at CCU and Kim found herself essentially undeclared. She loaded up on psychology and other soft sciences thinking perhaps she could pursue a career as a psychologist. Or at the very least provide herself with the tools to analyze herself and figure out what she should be doing with her life. She heard Ron humming to himself as he continued the dinner preparations and she wished that she could have his easygoing, carefree outlook on life.

Kim chuckled softly to herself at that thought. To think that'd she would one day come to envy Ron's slacker attitude. Not all that long ago she would have been horrified to find herself thinking like that, but after a few years of dating Ron she'd grown to appreciate a little slacking every now and then.

Speaking of which...

"How's dinner coming?" Kim asked as she firmly closed her book and set it solidly on the coffee table.

"Just fine, KP," Ron called back.

Kim stretched out the kinks in her back and strolled over to the kitchen. "Did you want some help?" she offered after watching Ron bustle about for a few moments. She enjoyed watching Ron working his culinary magic, his fingers deftly turning raw ingredients into delectable delights. Well, if she was going to be honest, she just enjoyed watching Ron.

The past three year had been good to him. Ron had gotten himself into better shape so he'd be of more use on a mission. It had happened so gradually that Kim had been surprised at the changes to his physique when she leafed through some of the old photo albums. The Ron she had known in high school had a slight tendency towards pudginess accentuated by the baggy clothes he's always worn. This Ron standing in front of her, her Ron, had a wiry fighter's build hidden underneath the baggy clothes he usually chose to wear. No point in messing with his essential Ron-ness, he usually argued when Kim tried to get him to alter his wardrobe. Though to be fair, Kim had a lot more leverage now than she had in high school, so there were a few more fashionable choices hanging in Ron's closet next to his ever present baggy clothes.

"Nope," Ron said quickly as he pulled a pan from the cupboard and a package of chicken from the refrigerator. "Got it covered, KP."

"You let Rufus help," Kim pointed out, aiming a finger to where the naked mole rat was busy stirring a simmering pot on the stove.

"Uh huh, uh huh," Rufus agreed, looking up from his task at his two humans.

"That's because Rufus listens to what I tell him to do," Ron answered without thinking as he set himself to slicing the chicken. He winced as he suddenly realized how bad that had sounded. He looked up from his task to catch Kim glaring at him and his mouth flopped open as his mind desperately searched for some way to salvage the situation.

"Oh, um, uh, that is, well, uh, you see, um... I love you," he finished weakly with an earnest expression on his face.

Kim narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend. "Was that a shot at my cooking?" she asked, ignoring Ron's attempt to assuage her wrath. "You said that you liked my pancakes."

Ron twitched guiltily as he recalled the breakfast Kim had prepared for him a couple of weeks ago. "Uh, yeah, I did, KP," he answered nervously. "I really liked the, uh, extra crunchiness."

She simply glared at him, sensing the lie the moment it left his mouth. "Liar," Kim sniffed.

Ron's mouth opened as he racked his mind for the right words to say before Mount St. Kim erupted and laid waste to the landscape and him with it. "I love you," he repeated earnestly in an even weaker voice.

Kim merely gave him a cold look before she wheeled around to leave the kitchen with her dignity intact and return to her studies.

"Kim! You can help!" Ron called after her, hoping that her natural Kimness would kick in and she'd return to show him that she could in fact cook. He quickly set the knife down on the counter, prepared to chase after her if it didn't appear that she would accept his appeal.

"OW!" he cried as the tip of his chef's knife sliced into the meaty part of his hand between his wrist and thumb. Reflexively, he drew the injury to his mouth with a pained grunt, wincing at the salty tang of blood on his tongue.

Immediately, Kim was there by his side, her concern for Ron momentarily overriding her prideful anger as she took the hand from his mouth to inspect the wound. "Are you alright?" she asked, turning his hand over and watching the blood seep from the gash. It wasn't a very deep cut, but it was bleeding freely with little sign of stopping on its own.

"It's not that bad, Kim," Ron assured her as the open edges of the wound began to sting from exposure to the air.

"We should still get it cleaned though," Kim said with a wary look at Ron's set of kitchen knives and the chicken on the counter.

"There's a band-aid in the drawer," Ron told Kim as he moved towards the sink to wash out the cut. A different sort of tingle prompted him to look back down at his hand again and froze him in his tracks. "What the hell?" he blurted out in surprise.

Kim returned to Ron's side quickly enough to catch a glimpse of the miniature flash of lightning that arced over the injured flesh. "What the hell?" she mimicked Ron's choice of words as she ran her fingers over his unbroken flesh. Only a few smears of blood on his now unmarred flesh remained as evidence that there had been any injury at all.

**XXXXX**

Up next: Quickening - An Immortal comes hunting for Ron's head.

A/N: Thanks go to conan98002, Jak4, surforst, Brimmstone, Visigoth29527, Blackwolf, Cylon One and chao-hellsing for reviewing the prologue and hope this chapter lives up to expectations.

To all the rest, thanks for reading and remember to drop a review.

So the chapter of this story flowed a little better than my other one. I had intended to get an update to Ron ½ in by now, but as my sister puts it, I've seem to come down with a case of creative constipation. Not a very pleasant image I'm sure, but very different from writer's block and just as bad. Instead of a blank page, I'm plagued with a welter of images clogged in the creative pipeline that refuses to flow from mind to paper so to speak. Hopefully, this delay will resolve itself very shortly.

Now I'm certain that the parts for a linear accelerator can't be used in a death ray, but then again I have no idea what makes up a particle accelerator. Though magnets. I know there are magnets.

Yori's actual age and past will be detailed later.

Now that I think about it, there is a sense of irony in making a KP – Highlander crossover since many of the major villains in Highlander have been referred to as K'Immies, Immortals with a hard K in their name. Well, it wasn't exclusive to villains. Heroes had the hard K in their names as well. Just an abstract thought.


	3. Chapter 2: Quickening

A Kind of Magic  
By Parareru

Disclaimer: I don't own Kim Possible or Highlander.

A/N: This story is set in Kim and Ron's sophomore year of college. Everything portrayed through So The Drama is considered canon. Now that Season 4 is out I may do a little retconning here and there.

**Chapter 2: Quickening**

"**_OW!_**"

"Okay, Kim. That was a good one," Wade's voice came from the Kimmunicator as a narrow blue beam shot from the handheld device and played over shallow wound on Ron's arm. After a few moments, the now familiar crackle of electricity arced over the cut, sealing it without a trace in the span of a few seconds.

"Um, excuse me? Can we try doing this without all the, you know, stabbing?" Ron asked plaintively, leaning across the table so Wade could see the unamused expression on his face.

"Relax, Ron. This is the only way we can get any data on your new healing abilities," Wade assured Ron as his hands flew across his keyboard, collating the new data that flowed across his screen. "Besides, we're only stabbing you a little bit."

"How do you _stab_ someone a little bit?" Ron demanded crossly as he looked at his arm where there was only the barest trace of blood to mark the site of his recent injury.

Kim watched the byplay between Ron and Wade with a bemused look on her face. Though treated to an example of Ron's new healing abilities beforehand she was far from used to the sight and she couldn't help but marvel at his newly mended flesh.

After the first cut on Ron's hand had healed right before their very eyes, Kim had called Wade on the Kimmunicator in search of some answers. Wade was somewhat skeptical of their story when his scans of Ron revealed nothing out of the ordinary. Hesitantly, they agreed to try and replicate the event with a shallow cut on Ron's forearm. The wound had bled profusely and Ron's face had gone pale from the pain rather than blood loss.

Wade had been so startled by the sight of Ron's flesh knitting back together in a crackling discharge of electricity that he had nearly fallen out of his seat. Once he had recovered his composure he instructed Kim to take another stab at it. Both Kim and Ron had given him a black look at the pun. And apparently, from the broad grin on Wade's face, the very much intended pun.

"Okay, let's see if you can nick a vein this time," Wade now instructed Kim. "Maybe then we'll move onto burns.

Ron's eyes grew to the size of saucers and he covered his wrist protectively with his free hand. "Vein?" he squeaked. "Burns?"

Wade merely shrugged, ignoring the quiet outrage in Ron's voice. "It's okay, Ron. At the rate you heal, the wound will close up before you lose too much blood."

"Yeah, but it's me doing all the bleeding here," Ron pointed out indignantly with a gesture at his arm and the blood smeared towel set on the counter to keep his kitchen from looking like a scene straight out of a horror movie. "That still bloody hurts you know."

"So, any theories yet, Wade?" Kim interrupted before the argument could boil over any more than it already had.

Wade shrugged, slightly amused by Ron's unintentional pun. "The mainframe is still compiling the data, but as far as I know the only examples of regenerative abilities like this have only appeared in comic books."

A sudden horrified gasp escaped from Ron as he caught the significance of Wade's reference. "This doesn't mean I'm going to have to start shaving my back, is it?" he quickly demanded.

"Eww," Kim grimaced as she shrunk slightly away from Ron.

Ron hurriedly pulled the back of his shirt up and turned to allow Kim to inspect the smooth flesh. "Quick, Kim! Is my back starting to sprout hair?"

"Amp down, Ron," Wade said calmly. "Just because that's the only reference I have doesn't mean you're going to exhibit all of the symptoms."

"Don't play me, Wade!" Ron shouted, muffled slightly by the shirt pulled over his head.

A quick yank from Kim hand pulled Ron's shirt back into its proper place. "Your back is fine Ron," Kim told him firmly. "No back shaving in your immediate future."

"Phew," Ron sighed in relief as he drew the back of his hand across his brow.

Kim chuckled and shook her head at Ron's fears and she laid a quick kiss on his cheek. "Don't worry, Ron. I'd still love you if you were hairier than–" her voice trailed off as she struggled to find a suitable comparison.

"Than Duff Killigan's Scottish chest? DNAmy's gorilla arms? Miss Hackett's upper lip?" Ron finished with an irreverent grin.

Kim laughed and swatted at Ron's arm. "That is so wrong," she protested between gasps of laughter. "But yes, I'd still love you. Well, maybe a waxing wouldn't hurt."

Ron winced. "Ugh. Waxing. That man-o-lantern thing just looked way too painful."

"It's not like that in real life," Kim pointed out, recalling the movie she had recently seen with Ron and his sympathetic whimpers as the star was subjected to what Ron had dubbed as 'torture sick and wrong.'

"It's pulling out masses of hair really, really quickly," Ron argued and shuddered. "It doesn't look like anything but painful."

"But you can't argue with the results," Kim answered with a coy little smile as she raised a leg and set one of Ron's hands on her smooth skin. "If you're a good boy, maybe one day I'll give you a chance to inspect the finished goods."

Ron swallowed heavily as he considered Kim's teasing offer. "I'm all about results," he burbled weakly, forgetting about everything else other than the beautiful woman sitting right beside him.

A loud beep from Wade's computers, audible over the Kimmunicator's link, drew Kim's attention away from Ron and back to the custom made handheld device. "Wade?"

"I'm with Ron on this one," Wade said, putting in his two cents as he rolled his eyes at the suggestive turn the conversation had been taking only moments earlier. "Waxing looks painful."

"The beep, Wade," Kim clarified with a slight sigh of exasperation escaping her lips.

"Oh, that," Wade responded as he called up the compiled information. "My system got a hit. It's kinda out there, but it sounds a little bit like Ron's sitch."

A gesture from Kim prompted Wade to continue. "Looks like somewhere around 15 years back, there was a guy admitted to a New York hospital with a gunshot wound. The paramedics absolutely swore the guy was shot and bleeding out. The thing is, at the hospital, they found some blood, but they didn't find a scratch on him."

"Hmm. That does sound weird," Ron mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"Well, do you have anything else on this guy? Like maybe a name or an address?" Kim pressed.

Wade winced and shook his head. "Sorry, Kim. They admitted him to the psych ward for some reason, but he disappeared a few hours later. It took a little doing to get the hospital computers to confess to that much."

"Well, keep digging Wade. There's gotta be something more out there."

Wade tapped a few more keys and called up another file he had been working on. "As long as we're on the subject of digging. I do have some results on the search you had me run on the CEO of DaCorr Technologies.

"What about it?"

"Well, turns out the guy is Dale Corrbin Junior, he inherited the company from his father."

A picture of Corrbin Sr. appeared next to a picture of Corrbin Jr. The resemblance was uncanny. If not for the differences in the backgrounds and the suits the two men were wearing, one would be hard pressed to tell who was who.

"Great. Another Senior and Junior to deal with," Ron groused sourly. "Told you that he was bad road."

"Ron, you didn't turn this one evil," Kim pointed out as she tapped the photo of Corrbin Sr.

"Oh sure, make one little mistake and it haunts you for the rest of your life."

Kim leveled a look at her boyfriend. "Four words. Spinning. Tops. Of Doom."

Ron chuckled a bit nervously at that and his eyes wandered about until they landed on the pictured displayed on the Kimmunicator. "Huh. Would you look at that? Strong family resemblance," he quickly said in an effort to change the subject. "Almost looks like the same guy."

"Actually, that's kinda the weird thing. Once Junior took over the company from Daddy, he's never heard from again," Wade continued briefing them on the anomalies he had discovered. "From a company perspective, it was just like business as usual. No transition period while Junior learned the ropes. The stocks didn't even take a hit. He just took over the company and basically hit the ground running. But here's the really weird thing. Before Junior took over there was no indication that he even existed. Nothing. Just one day it's announced that Corrbin Sr. had retired and Corrbin Jr. was in charge now."

"So what are you saying? That it's the same guy?" Ron asked, his eyebrow rising curiously.

Wade shook his head. "Nah. Couldn't be. I mean that'd make the guy something like in his seventies."

Ron shrugged. "He could have a really good plastic surgeon. I mean look at the guy who's always hosting the New Year's bash on TV."

"Oh, that's because he's a robot," Wade mumbled absently as he perused some more data regarding the mysterious CEO.

"I knew it!" Ron exclaimed, ecstatic to finally have his suspicions confirmed.

"Oh, umm, forget I ever said anything about a robot," Wade said quickly as he realized his error. "It's just a little joke I've got going with some of my online buddies. He's not really a robot."

"Aw, come on, Wade. You can tell me. I mean look at the guy. He never changes," Ron whined.

"Trust me, Ron. He's not a robot. I have the medical records to prove it."

Ron sagged in defeat and sighed. Wade drummed his fingers on his desk, considering his next step in unraveling this little mystery that had landed in his lap. Thinking that it couldn't hurt he sent his queries out in search of Dale Corrbin's medical files.

The system chugged along as it processed the data his roving search engines retrieved; sophisticated programs winnowed through the mountains of data pouring in and discarded the near matches. With his system, Wade could find virtually all there is to know about any single person in the US, or any first world nation for that matter. So it came as no wonder that his eyebrows shot up in surprise when the computer came back with a negative result.

"Now here's something weird," Wade muttered, as much to himself as to Kim.

"What do you got?" Kim asked.

"It's actually more like what I don't have," Wade answered as he quickly tapped a few keys to confirm that the programs were working correctly. "Dale Corrbin doesn't have any medical records. And that goes for his father too."

"Well, maybe the family's weird about their privacy," Kim guessed. "After all, I had you put a lock on my records to keep people from those trash rags snooping around."

Wade shook his head. "No. Even if they were sealed, I'd still be able to find some trace of them. They're just not there to begin with."

"How about if he's in the Witness Protection Program or something like that," Ron supplied helpfully.

"I kinda doubt it," Wade replied slowly as he briefly considered Ron's idea and then discarded it just as quickly. "His position is a little too high profile and he has made a number of public appearances. People in the program don't do that."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense," Ron agreed. "So what's the deal with him then?"

Wade was temporarily stymied by this apparent mystery. Instead of answers, the more he dug into Dale Corrbin's past he just found more questions. Paradoxically, the CEO's history was complete in just the right places, but simple things like medical records were nonexistent.

"Honestly? I don't know," Wade answered with a truthful grimace. If there was one thing on Earth that Wade absolutely hated, it was the unknown. "Want me to keep digging?"

Kim paused briefly and considered Wade's question with a sidelong glance at Ron. His instinctive hunch had yet to pay off, but it had borne some fairly interesting result so far. "Please and thank you," she finally answered with a firm nod of her head.

"I'll get back to you when I have something more," Wade promised. "Now let's see what else we can find about Ron's new powers."

"I think we've done enough for tonight," Ron said as he held up the bloodstained rag for Wade's benefit. "I mean heaven help me if I have to explain this to anyone. 'Nope, just sat around, slashing my wrists for a night of fun.' Not exactly the sort of thing that cries sound mental health."

"But Ron! Think about the possibilities! Your regenerative abilities are virtually off the charts!" Wade protested. "This could literally revolutionize medicine! We could bring people back from the brink of death!"

Kim blinked and let out a soft, inaudible gasp as revelation suddenly dawned upon her. It was a matter of fact that Ron had special powers. The Mystical Monkey Power was very real and very much a part of his life, but during some of the rougher missions they had tackled Ron had ended up just as scraped and banged up as she had. In fact, Ron's powers hadn't exhibited anything like this until that the night in the warehouse. Eyes wide she recalled that horrible night. The night that Ron had… died.

"I'm not too keen on being poked and prodded," Ron argued. "I mean what if I'm like that chicken they tried chop up for the silver eggs."

"That's the Goose that laid the Golden Eggs," Wade corrected automatically, well used to Ron jumbling the facts.

There was no doubt in Kim's mind that Ron's return to life had been a miracle. More importantly it had shown her just how much he had meant to her life. And just how quickly he could be ripped from her life. When she had seen Ron lying on that cold, stone floor she had felt her world simply vanish into a black hole of nothingness. She had been lucky once, but there was no guarantee that such luck would hold. The next time she lost Ron, it might be forever.

"The point is what if they dissect me and don't find anything," Ron demanded. "What if it's just my Mystical Monkey Power going into a new phase? How you going to measure that?"

Wade groaned softly, but had to admit that Ron had a point. There was no guarantee that whatever it was that healed Ron would be transferable to another person. It was just that Wade hated the word magic. To his mind everything could be explained by science. And if by chance there was something that science failed to explain it simply meant they lacked the proper understanding of the principles involved. But to be entirely fair Wade's instruments had so far failed to capture any scientifically verifiable reading in regards to Ron's Monkey Power.

"Okay, Ron. You win," Wade finally conceded.

"So no sending the Wade-bot to whisk me off to some lab with honking huge needles?" he asked somewhat suspiciously with narrowed eyes.

"No, Ron," answered Wade with a somewhat tired sigh. "Stop being so paranoid."

"Hey, just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean that someone's not out to get me," Ron quickly pointed out and scratched at his chin as a sense of déjà vu washed over him.

Wade shrugged as he acknowledged that Ron's somewhat warped logic had a point in that regard. "So when did this first begin happening?" he asked curiously in an attempt to gather more information on Ron's powers.

"I don't know," Ron answered shortly, somewhat exasperated by the whole ordeal. "This is the first time anything like this ever happened to me."

"No, it isn't."

Both Wade and Ron ceased talking upon hearing Kim speak those three words in a very small voice. She had been so quiet during their impromptu debate that the two men had nearly forgotten that she was there.

"KP?" Ron asked curiously.

"You were dead," she answered numbly, her eyes lowered to the table.

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"You were dead, Ron," Kim repeated in that same listless tone.

"Maybe I was just mostly dead," Ron posited gently as he tried to angle his head so he could look Kim in the eye. "You know, like the type of dead that a guy like Miracle Max could bring back."

Kim shook her head insistently, her red tresses flying. "No, you were dead. You were really, really _dead_," she said, her eyes wide in horror as if she could still see Ron's body lying on that warehouse floor.

Ron gathered her into his arms before Kim could fly off into a full hysterical rant. Even so he could hear and feel her mumbling into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Ron. This is all my fault. This shouldn't have happened to you. I'm so sorry."

"Kim. Kim!" Ron said loudly to break through to her. Very rarely had he seen Kim come unhinged like this and it frightened him. In the natural order of the universe he was the one that was supposed to fly off the handle, not Kim Possible. "Look! I'm fine. I am sitting right here with you. I didn't die. And I'm not going to. Well, I mean, not for another sixty or seventy years or so."

Kim fell silent and held onto Ron for dear life. "You don't know that. You _can't_ know that. What happened that night was an _accident_! What if there's a next time? What if you don't come back?" She turned her head aside, realizing that she was on the verge of breaking down in hysteria. "I can't lose you like that. Not again. Maybe… maybe it's time for us to retire," she said softly.

"Um, correct me if I'm wrong, but don't you need to be working in order to retire?" Ron suggested.

"I meant saving the world, Ron," Kim retorted, some fire creeping back into her voice.

"You know I always considered that more of a hobby," Ron observed.

"You consider stopping villains from taking over the world a hobby?" Kim asked incredulously.

"Okay, well, maybe not that part," Ron quickly amended. "And maybe not the part where there are those large people wanting to hurt us. And definitely not the part where the villains drop us into a pit filled with animals, all of which have big teeth. Oh, and we can't forget about the lairs, with the traps and the death rays and But other that, there's the going places, meeting people. That's pretty hobbyish."

Kim simply stared at her boyfriend in disbelief. "You, you, you're trying to change the subject," she finally realized.

With an enormously pleased grin on his face, Ron simply shook his head. "Not trying. Did."

"But what if…" Kim tried to argue, but was silenced when Ron placed a silencing finger to her lips.

"Wade, a moment," Ron said tersely.

Wade raised an eyebrow at the request, but Ron's tone brooked no argument and the Kimmunicator's screen went dark.

"Kim, you help people. It's what you do," Ron said gently as he simultaneously turned towards Kim and placed the Kimmunicator face down. "You might say now that you want to give it all up, but I'd like to think that after all this time I know you a little better than that. You can't let your fears about me influence a decision this big.

"I don't want to lose you and if you decide to retire because of me, because you want to keep me safe, I know that eventually you could come to resent me for it." He held a hand up to stifle Kim's reflexive protest and slowly threaded the fingers of his left hand with Kim's right, holding her hand in a firm, but tender grip. Raising their joined hands, Ron planted a kiss on the inside of her wrist, taking a moment to breathe in her fragrance. "There's risk in everything. There's no guarantee in anything. Who's to say that we'll get killed on a mission? Either one of us could get nailed by a car just crossing the street.

"What we have is great. I wouldn't change a thing or trade it for the world," Ron stated. "I can't see into the future. I don't know how much time we have together, but while we have each other I think I'm content to take each day as it comes."

Kim sat there silently with her head bowed, stunned into silence by Ron's words. Ron wasn't a very eloquent person, but he certainly had his moments. And at this very moment Kim's heart felt like it would nearly burst with the love she felt for him.

"Did I ever tell you how much I love you," Kim said warmly as she rested her forehead against Ron's.

"Um, that's one of those rhetorical questions, right?" Ron asked uncertainly. "I mean, if I'm right then I'm not really supposed to answer that?"

"That's my Ron," Kim chuckled softly.

"Guys, is the moment over yet?" Wade asked, his voice slightly muffled since the Kimmunicator was still facedown on the counter.

"In a sec, Wade," Kim answered as she pulled Ron close for a lingering kiss. When they finally pulled apart, Kim gave their still joined hands a kiss as she answered Ron's questioning look with a brave smile.

"Well, I guess this means that I'm not going to be leaving you any time soon," Ron assured her with a brave smile of his own.

"So, Ron was clinically dead for a few minutes there?" Wade meant it as a way to change the subject, but he was still genuinely intrigued by that scenario. Ron could just imagine what was going through the teen genius' mind.

"Wade, we are not going to try and kill me as an experiment," Ron told Wade in a firm voice.

"I wasn't suggesting that we do," Wade answered quickly.

"Yeah, just remember that, Wade," Ron advised.

"Don't worry, Ron. I wouldn't let anything happen to you," Kim assured him as she placed a hand on his cheek and pulled him close for another long drawn out kiss.

"Hmm, so maybe I should have a cool hero name to go along with my new lightning powers," Ron mused with a pleased grin on his face after the two of them parted. "How do you like Lightning Guy or Super Volt, KP?"

"Oh, it's not lightning," Wade replied absently from the Kimmunicator as his eyes perused the compiled data. The numbers were a little perplexing, but it certainly beat the persistent displays of affection Kim and Ron routinely subjected him to. "I'm barely detecting any elevated electron activity."

Ron gave Wade a disbelieving look. "Well, what is it then? It looks like lightning."

"That's the thing. Looks like," Wade answered, turning his attention back to Ron. "Unless you've got a battery stuck inside of you somewhere that you're not telling us about, you can't be generating that sort of an electrical discharge. Not to mention that electricity shouldn't just linger like it does over the site of your wound. It simply doesn't behave like that."

"So what would you call it then?" Ron asked, wincing a little at the imagery Wade's mention of a battery brought up.

Wade shrugged and looked Ron in the eye. "My best guess, it's some kind of magic."

**XXXXX**

"So, you okay, KP?" Ron asked as he set Kim's backpack holding her books on the small desk in her dorm room after having walked her back from his apartment. It really was almost like high school all over again, where the two of them lived within walking distance from each other. For once, the dorm was quiet, most of the occupants either asleep or partying at one of the frat houses on the other side of the campus.

Brushing a lock of hair behind her ear Kim gave Ron a warm smile. "I will be."

Ron cocked his head curiously at her. "Will be?"

Kim nodded and looped her arms behind Ron's neck and pulled him close. "Just as soon as you give me a kiss good night," she said softly as she looked up into his eyes.

"Well, I suppose if I have to," Ron said with feigned reluctance as he leaned closer and let his lips brush up against Kim's.

"You should know better than that by now," Kim replied before stretching her neck to close that infinitesimal gap between them. "Of course you have to."

Her mouth opened, warm and inviting as Ron leaned into her, deepening the kiss. She let out a pleased moan as Ron's arms encircled her and pulled her closer to him. His hands settled on her hips and his thumbs began stroking her skin just above the top of her pants before sliding upwards, underneath her shirt. She could feel the heat of his body through the intervening layers of cloth that still separated their bodies. Kim shifted her arms around Ron, devouring his lips with a hunger, a frightening need. She pulled him tighter against her, wanting to pull him into her, past the layers of flesh and bone until they were truly one being, one soul. Kim edged backwards towards her bed, drawing Ron with her, her lips not once breaking contact with his.

Abruptly, Ron released his hold on Kim and gently pushed her away, breathing heavily, his eyes clouded and confused. "Um, I-I think I should go," he murmured apologetically, unable to meet her eyes as he stepped away from Kim and stumbled for the door.

"Ron!" Kim called quickly after him as Ron virtually fled back down the hall.

Not heeding her call, Ron burst into the stairwell and took the stairs two at a time until he reached the bottom and fled into the night, not caring where he was going. His mind and soul were in turmoil, the intensity of what he had just felt with Kim in his arms frightened him. Never had he come so close to crossing the line that he had set at the beginning of their relationship. Never before had he so wanted to simply throw caution to the wind and just take Kim on the floor of her dorm room.

Running was the only thing he could do at that point. He knew that Kim was willing, he had no illusions or intentions of forcing her to do anything, but he simply wasn't ready to cross that line. But even as he held on to his convictions, the knowledge that he was doing the right thing by waiting, he couldn't shake the fear that his reluctance to take the next step would somehow force Kim to leave him. And so, there he was, stuck between a rock and a hard place. Give in and make love Kim like his hormones so desperately demanded and throw everything he was, everything he had ever believed in out the window. Or stay true to what he had learned as a boy in Temple and possibly lose Kim, send her into the arms of another, someone who would give her what she wanted and needed. Running from his problem was the easy choice.

Ron finally drew to a halt, trying to determine where in town he had ended up in his headlong flight from Kim's dorm. Groaning in disgust he hammered the sides of his head with his palms, wondering how he could just leave Kim like that. She must really think him a jerk for leaving like he did and he'd be lucky if she'd ever want to see him again. Shaking his head Ron realized he was in the restaurant district, a little bit off the beaten path between his apartment and Kim's dorm.

It was late and the area of town was shutting down for the night, leaving the district virtually deserted. That suited Ron just fine. The way he was feeling right now, he didn't want to deal with any large crowds.

Ron paused in the street, feeling that same buzzing pressure he had felt a few days ago in San Francisco. He whirled around trying to locate the source of the strange sensation. A feeling of dread welled up inside of him and he fled down the empty streets in an attempt to escape the presence that seemed to haunt him. The pressure seemed to increase, hitting him again with surprising force. Though far from used to the sensation, Ron was learning how to cope with the strange and random occurence so it no longer had him gasping in pain.

The empty streets were far too open and Ron felt far too exposed, like he had a target painted on his back. He ducked into an alley, heading more or less in the general direction of his apartment. Once he reached home he knew that he'd be safe and Ron poured on the speed. A figure clad in a trenchcoat and a wide brimmed hat suddenly appeared in the alley, barring Ron's path and he screeched to a halt.

"Tristan Blake," the trenchcoat clad figure said.

"Sorry, my name's Ron Stoppable. I don't know this Tristan Blake fellow you're talking about," Ron replied uneasily as he contemplated fleeing back the way he had come.

"My name is Tristan Blake," the shadowy figure clarified as he tossed his hat aside, approaching Ron, but giving him a wide berth. Purposefully, Blake slowly maneuvered himself so that Ron was circling away from him until they had quite neatly exchanged positions, effectively trapping his quarry in the alley. "I've come for your head."

"Sorry, dude, but I don't swing that way," Ron replied automatically as he tried to circle back around the obstructing figure of Tristan Blake.

"Funny you should say swing," Blake chuckled in a sinister manner as he reached into his coat and pulled a longsword from concealment. Ron drew short and stared at the European style blade in confusion, wondering if he had somehow done something recently to piss off the Knights of Rodegan.

"Look, whoever you are, I'm not looking for a fight," Ron said holding his hands up in a peaceful gesture as he gave the sword in Blake's hand a wary eye.

"Too bad. I am," Blake growled as he whipped his sword at Ron's neck.

Acting on reflex, Ron skipped back away from the beheading stroke, his eyes widening as he felt the breeze from the blade brush across his neck. He continued to fall backwards, purposefully rolling onto his back as Blake swung his sword around for another strike.

Ron maintained his backwards roll, hearing the blade strike the ground he had only just vacated and pushed off with a handspring the moment his shoulder blades hit the ground. It was a move that he'd seen Kim perform many times before during her fights with Shego, but he'd never attempted it himself. He panted briefly in relief to find that the move had worked as advertised and put some much needed distance between the two of them. Unfortunately, it also put Ron deeper into the alley and further from the safety of the more public streets.

"Why?" Ron thought to ask as Blake stalked forward, his sword held ready before him.

Blake shrugged. "It's what we do."

"It's not what I do," Ron protested as he continued backing away from his strangely intent opponent.

"Yes, it is. You just don't know it yet," Blake taunted as he leapt forward, his blade swinging. "And sadly you never will!"

Ron yelped and ducked under the swing, the steel whistling over his head as he reflexively planted a kick into Blake's midsection. Blake recovered faster than Ron expected and swung an overhand blow at him. Ron shied away from the attack and sparks flew from a nearby dumpster as the sword severed the locking bar.

Ron's hand closed around the loosely hanging length of steel and flinched away from the sparks that again flew from the dumpster as Blake's blade again connected with the metal body. Ron stumbled backwards, unbalanced by the ferocity of the unexpected and unwarranted attack and raised his hands in a warding gesture. His eyes widened slightly as he realized that he was now armed in a fashion with the uneven length of steel wrenched from the damaged dumpster.

He tentatively swung his newly appropriated, if slightly unwieldy, weapon in slow arcs and was rewarded to seek Blake regard him with a degree of wariness. Ron brandished his weapon in what he hoped was a menacing manner. He jabbed with the uneven point of the bar in an attempt to drive Blake back and win some room to maneuver, but Blake parried Ron's clumsy attack and knocked the steel rod from side to side.

Panting heavily from the exertion, Ron tried desperately to keep his weapon lined up with his opponent, but the sheer weight of the steel rod and each rattling clash of metal sent numbing vibrations through his arms. Suddenly Blake swept his sword in an upward arc, catching the tip of the steel bar at an angle and flung it backwards just as Ron felt his fingers lose their grip.

Ron's eyes reflexively started to follow the rising point of his weapon, drawing his attention away from his adversary for a critical split-second. Realizing his mistake, Ron quickly backpedaled in a frantic effort to keep his error from becoming a fatal one as he felt of red-hot line of pain burn its way across his chest.

**XXXXX**

Yamanochi – Several months ago

"Sensei! What the hell are you _doing_?!" Ron demanded, clutching his bleeding chest as he backed away from the person he had come to consider as a mentor and friend. He pulled his hand away from the wound and the now ruined gi, it wasn't a very deep cut or bleeding very much, but it still stung like crazy.

"We are merely continuing your training, Stoppable-san," Sensei serenely replied as he held the katana that had been the cause of Ron's recent injury in a loose grip. "Tell me, how much do you value your life?

Ron watched the blade in Sensei's hand with a leery eye. "Bout as much as the next man, I guess," he answered with a shrug.

The katana began moving, cutting lazy patterns through the air. "But you are different from other men," Sensei pointed out. "Other men do not throw themselves into danger to save the world as often as you have done. Other men do not have an arch foe intent on claiming their life and power. Other men do not have a destiny like yours. So tell me, Stoppable-san, how much do you value your life?"

Each of Sensei's points struck a chord in Ron. "Pretty highly," he answered.

Sensei cocked his head to one side as if gauging the weight of Ron's words. "It sounds as if you lack conviction," he declared as his katana rose and swung at Ron.

Moving with a speed he didn't know he possessed Ron frantically dodged the strike. All of the skills he had learned in his times at Yamanochi were sorely put to the test as he somehow managed to repeatedly avoid Sensei's blade by the slimmest of margins.

"When you dodged my sword just now, what was going through your mind?" Sensei asked almost lazily as he twirled his blade about. "Was it, 'I'm afraid he will cut me?'"

_Of course I'm afraid, _Ron thought to himself, wisely holding his tongue lest he goad Sensei into attacking any further.

Sensei shook his head as if he could read Ron's thoughts. "There is no room for fear on the battlefield or you have already lost. You must not act out of fear, but of the resolve of your heart!" Charging forward, Sensei brought his katana to bear, aiming to spear Ron through the heart.

Ron started to move backwards, to keep as much distance between himself and that deadly blade as he could. Now that Sensei had called attention to it he could feel the fear of the sword grip his heart.

"Wrong! When you dodge, every fiber of your being must say, 'I will not let them cut me!'" Sensei barked in reproach as Ron dodged again from his strike.

Something hardened within Ron at those words and as Sensei's blade stabbed forward, Ron moved forward as well, twisting his body around strike. Finding himself inside of Sensei's guard for the first time since this intense training session began; Ron tried to strike at his mentor's wrists in an attempt to knock the weapon away. Suddenly Ron found himself tumbling across the courtyard. Somehow Sensei had managed to block his attack and countered with one of his own. Even more disturbing to Ron was the fact that he hadn't even seen Sensei move.

With a groan of pain, Ron drew himself to his feet again and rubbed at his sore chest as he considered Sensei standing several feet in front of him, sword held at the ready. It didn't seem as if Sensei was prepared to end the lesson any time soon. Unarmed as he was, Ron wouldn't last long and unfortunately there were no suitable weapons in the courtyard. That in itself was rather strange since students regularly trained there.

The katana gleamed brightly as Sensei angled his blade slightly to catch the sunlight and sent a beam of light stabbing into Ron's eyes. Ron reflexively winced and flinched away from the glare as Sensei took advantage of Ron's momentary distraction and charged.

Caught off guard by the suddenness of the assault, Ron could little more than leap to the side as Sensei's blade sliced through the air. Ron landed poorly and found himself sprawled on the ground as Sensei advanced on him.

It just wasn't fair! Sure, Ron's skills in the martial arts were nowhere close to Sensei's, but when you added a sword to the mix, the odds were definitely stacked in Sensei's favor.

Helplessly, Ron could do little more than watch as Sensei leapt high in the air, his sword stabbing downwards towards where Ron lay defenseless on the ground. Suddenly, the courtyard wall burst inward in a shower of rubble and the ring of steel meeting steel echoed throughout the grounds.

Sensei quickly disengaged and sprang back several steps, allowing Ron the chance to scramble to his feet. Sensei merely cocked his head to one side as he regarded the glimmering blade in Ron's hand. "Your skills are truly growing, Stoppable-san, but tell me. What do you intend to do with that?"

Ron looked uncertainly at the Lotus Blade and shrugged. "I was thinking that I needed to even the playing field," he responded.

Sensei shook his head. "There is a reason why the Lotus Blade's natural form is a sword. It is a tool, a weapon meant to injure and kill. Do you have the will to wield it as it is meant to be wielded?"

Ron swallowed hard and glanced at the magical blade resting in his hand. At his unvoiced command, the Lotus Blade rippled and resolved itself into the form of a quarterstaff.

"Wrong again, Stoppable-san. There will come times and opponents when you must be willing to end the life of your opponent. Before the weed grows and chokes the life from the flower it is then that it must be cut back and uprooted from the soil," Sensei lectured. "Return the Lotus Blade to its original form and come at me."

With a great deal of reluctance, Ron did as Sensei instructed and took a few tentative swings at the venerable old ninja master. A flicker of annoyance seemed to cross Sensei's face as he almost contemptuously batted aside Ron's attacks.

"Your attacks are weak. They tell me, 'I am afraid of cutting someone,'" Sensei said critically as he responded with a series of sweeping slashes that sent Ron on the defensive once more.

As he retreated, Ron realized that Sensei was right. His fear of injuring someone was the reason why he had reformed the Lotus Blade into a staff. Ron had blithely assumed that having a weapon in his hand would ease some of the fear that gripped him, but as he parried Sensei's attacks with the Lotus Blade he realized he felt even more uncomfortable. Sensei's lecture about the Lotus Blade stuck in Ron's mind. He didn't really expect Ron to try and injure or kill him, did he?

"Why do you fight, Stoppable-san?" Sensei suddenly asked, putting up his sword again halting the exchange of blows.

"Um, well, you said we'd do some training while Yori and Kim did some girl stuff together," Ron answered uncertainly, grateful for the moment's rest.

"No, no. I mean, what drives you? What is behind your will to fight?"

Ron scoffed. "Well, to be honest, I really don't want to," he answered, hoping perhaps that Sensei might take the hint and end the lesson.

"Truly? Do you remember when you first arrive here at Yamanochi and the conflicts that followed? You did well to go to Yori's rescue, but what words were spoken in your heart? Was it, 'I'm afraid of letting her die?'"

Ron thought back to that time, when he had first met Yori and when Sensei had informed him of Yori's capture by Monkey Fist. He remembered the feeling of guilt that had washed over him, that if he had only stepped up like Sensei had asked, then Yori would've been safe.

Once again, Sensei had hit the nail squarely on the head. When Ron had girded himself for battle, defeating Monkey Fist hadn't been at the forefront of Ron's mind. It had been to correct his mistake, to bring Yori home. But even when he had been captured by Monkey Fist as well and the two of them were left to a gruesome and painful death...

Sensei nodded as if he could hear Ron's thoughts. "It is not today that you will be called upon to make such a terrible choice. To take a life. But I fear that one day fate will take you down such a path. To that end it is my task to see to it that you are ready." Sensei raised his blade. "When you are prepared."

With the Lotus Blade in hand, Ron felt a surge in his confidence and he lashed out with the weapon, momentarily forcing Sensei back on the defensive. The blade flickered and rapidly changed forms in response to Ron's need. A staff one moment, a shield the next, he lashed out with all the skills he had acquired over the course of his training to force Sensei to put up his sword in surrender.

"Very good, Stoppable-san," Sensei commended as he parried Ron's ferocious onslaught and met it with his own. "Remember, if you would protect someone your heart must say 'I will not let them die!'"

Both blades met in a shower of sparks and the bell like ring of steel on steel. "When your blade wields the spirit of its master it will strike true and when you attack your spirit will cry out in a mighty voice, 'I _will_ cut them!'"

Master and pupil continued to hack and slash at each other with seemingly wild abandon. To the outside observer it would appear as though the two of them were truly intent on killing each other, so fast were their blades flying. In a strange way, despite the fact that he and Sensei were hacking away at each other with two very lethal lengths of steel, Ron found that he was starting to enjoy himself. He threw himself wholly into the swordplay, reacting on instinct and trying to anticipate Sensei's next movement.

There was one final, titanic clash of the blades and Ron froze, the Lotus Blade nowhere close to a defensible position with Sensei's blade at his throat. He swallowed nervously as the two of them held that position for several long moments. His eyes locked with Sensei's wondering what his mentor's intent was with this demonstration. Ron knew that his meager ninja skills were nowhere on par with Sensei's, but he did feel a glimmer of pride that he had managed to last as long as he had. Now if only Sensei would be reasonable and take the sword away from his throat then they could resume his training and everything would be chauncey.

Sensei suddenly pulled his katana away from Ron's neck and in a fluid motion tucked it back underneath his arm. Ron breathed a sigh of relief as he lowered the Lotus Blade and attempted to mimic Sensei's move and somehow managed to slice through the drawstring holding his pants up.

"Well done. Your skills are nearly complete, Stoppable-san," Sensei congratulated Ron as the younger man tried wrestle his pants back up where they belonged. "Come. Return the Lotus Blade to the shrine and I will teach you of a technique to properly disarm a sword wielding opponent."

**XXXXX**

Ron clutched at his bleeding chest, his makeshift weapon tumbling from suddenly nerveless fingers. He staggered backwards as quickly as he could, feeling as if the sword had come within a hairsbreadth of slicing him in half. Ron gagged at the intense agony shooting through him and it was all he could do to keep from collapsing to the ground.

"You should be proud. You fought well considering your lack of training," Blake commented idly as he stalked forward, his sword held low. "I might have even let you live to fight another day. But sadly that's not why any of us are here. In the end, there can be only one."

Ron could do little more than watch as Blake raised his sword and tried to rally the last of his strength. At the most he might have one good move left in him. The problem was the sword. He needed to get that sword away from Blake. Once he had hold of the sword he might be able to fend off Blake until his healing powers kicked in. Desperately Ron wracked his mind for a technique he could pull off in his weakened condition.

The sword finally fell and Ron quickly surged forward with a speed defying reason, especially in light of his wounds and came up inside of Blake's reach. The sword continued to swing as Ron twisted his body around to set his back against the assassin's chest, his hands reaching for the deadly blade. His hands wrapped around the hilt as he continued twisting around, his leverage wrenching the weapon from his startled opponent's grasp. A quick shove from Ron's shoulder sent Tristan Blake stumbling backwards as Ron completed the technique's revolution, bringing the sword up defensively between the two of them.

But he hadn't counted on the angle of the blade or that Blake would try to resist the force of Ron's shove, stumbling back only a scant couple of feet. As Ron whipped the razor sharp steel of his appropriated sword around, it sliced through Tristan Blake's neck with barely a tug to slow its passage.

Horrified by what he had just done, Ron stared at the headless body collapsing at his feet, retreating several paces to keep the body from falling on top of him. His hand shook terribly, dropping the sword in the process as a pale mist seemed to flow out of the corpse. The feeling of a great weight drove Ron to his knees and he let out a pained groan at the pressure that seemed to come from within as well as without.

Arcs of lightning burst around him, causing some of the brickwork in the alley to explode in showers of rubble. Ron couldn't help but scream in renewed agony as the lightning arced towards him and coursed through him. He flung an arm skyward and the lightning streaked through the air, drawn towards his outstretched limb. Scream after scream was ripped from his throat as his mind was bombarded by images of places he had never been and people he had never met.

It was terrifying and exhilarating. It was agony and pleasure. It was death and life.

And suddenly it was over.

Ron knelt there on his hands and knees in that rubble strewn alley, drawing shuddering breaths into his shocked lungs. With a groan of pain he pushed himself back onto his heels and numbly took stock of his surroundings. He swore and recoiled in horror as his eyes fell upon the headless corpse lying only a few feet from him. Trying to keep a firm grip on his suddenly queasy stomach Ron scrabbled backwards away from the body as quickly as he could.

"Get up, Stoppable!" a looming figure barked gruffly as Ron felt himself being hauled him bodily to his feet by the back of his collar.

Ron twisted his body around and squinted in the low light of the alley. "Mr. B?" he gasped in surprise as Steve Barkin gave his chest a firm shove that sent him stumbling out of the alley.

"Move! You can't be here when the cops show up!" Barkin shouted as he knelt to retrieve the dead man's sword and expertly wiped it clean of fingerprints. "Especially not looking like you do right now."

"But I-" Ron began to protest, but trailed off as his eye fell once again upon the dead body lying in the alley.

"Dammit. I said, _Move!_ I'll explain later!" Barkin quickly promised. "Now go!"

**XXXXX**

**Up next:** **Life is Unfair**

**A/N:** Thanks go to CajunBear73, Otritzi, chao-hellsing, Jak4, calamite, protector99, conan98002, peacekeeperchuck, surforst and Angus Hardie for leaving a review of the last chapter. Hopefully I spelled everyone's name right this time.

For everyone else, thanks for reading and remember to drop a review. Now that I have some time I might just be able to mount a reply.

Sorry for my long delay in getting this update posted. Rather than explain my long absence here I've posted a detailed account on my profile if you're interested in reading it. Now that this chapter's up, next on the list to be updated is Ron 1/2.

For fans of Bleach, you might recognize Sensei's lesson during the flashback scene from Ichigo's flashback of his training with Kisuke Urahara in episode 31.

The discussion on waxing references Wolverine from Marvel comics and the movie The 40 Year Old Virgin. I'm with Ron on this one too. Waxing looks painful.

There are also a couple of references to Highlander: the Final Dimension in the flashback lesson and the disarming technique Ron used to take his first head.


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